Discovering Lily
by Mis Chi Evous
Summary: A pregnant Ginny is inspired through a series of dreams to learn more about the woman who gave birth to Harry. A multichaptered fic. Chapter Fourteen is up!
1. Chapter 1: A Vision in Haze

**Chapter One: A Vision in Haze**

She stood slowly, wincing at the pain in her back. At eight months pregnant, friends told Ginny Potter that she was glowing and beautiful, but what she felt was fat and uncomfortable. The swelling in her feet and the pain in her back made sitting or standing a task to be accomplished as slowly as possible so as not to jar anything. Once she was sitting, no position was comfortable, and standing made her tire. Nesting instincts were kicking in, and no speck of dust in the house was safe. The kitchen had already had a deep clean, and Harry had nearly lost his mind when he'd discovered her on her knees attempting to scrub the bathtub by hand, since the spells didn't do nearly as good a job as she could do with her own two hands.

As she walked to the kitchen to get a glass of milk, she passed the picture frames on the mantle. Pictures she and Harry had chosen and framed together, she remembered, when they'd first bought the house outside of Ottery St. Catchpole. She recalled the one time she'd been to the Dursleys' household and had seen the shrine to Dudley, so she was careful to pick pictures of many different people -- her family, friends from school they still kept in touch with, pictures of Ron and Hermione's son Andrew, and Bill and Fleur's daughter Cathy. The largest picture was one of their wedding, displaying the moment when they sealed their vows with a kiss.

Ginny smiled as she watched a much thinner version of herself enthusiastically kiss the boy of her dreams, who had slowly become the man of her future . Taking a step forward, she caressed the wood of the frame for a moment before her eyes moved to the picture of her own mother holding her after her birth. She watched almost breathlessly as Molly was handed a squealing bundle, and couldn't help but smile as Molly burst into tears, mouthing over and over, "It's a girl! Finally, it's a girl!"

Rubbing her hands over her belly in the slow circle she now found was an almost constant motion, Ginny began to talk to the baby nestled inside of her. "That's Grandma Weasley. My mum. You're going to love her. She makes the best biscuits and the worst sweaters. Your dad's mum…" Ginny trailed off, uncertain why she had begun to think of this now, when it didn't seem appropriate to talk about sad things. Not having two sets of grandparents was common enough. A soft pop behind her let her know Harry had arrived at home.

"Hey Ginny," Harry whispered, coming up behind her to wrap his arms around the swell of her belly and kiss her cheek. "What are you looking at?"

"The baby and I are starting to learn names early, since that's a skill they're going to have to employ very early in life."

Harry chuckled. "You can say a lot about our family, but 'small', it isn't."

Ginny nodded, a smile creeping over her face. "I don't think I got up to look at pictures, though," she admitted. "I think I was headed to the kitchen to get a glass of milk."

"Well then, let's go get a glass of milk. I could use some water. Practice was a bit rough today."

With a grin, Ginny took Harry's hand and walked to the kitchen, letting him pamper her for a minute, feeling calm and relaxed for the first time all day. "Harry, do you suppose I'll be a good mum?" she asked, debating the advantage of sitting or standing.

"Of course," Harry answered, a bit distractedly as he rummaged about in the fridge for the missing milk. "Gin, did you drink all the milk?"

Resisting the urge to stomp her feet, she snapped, "Harry. Will you focus on my question, please?"

"I'm sorry," Harry said, popping up over the door to look her directly in the eyes. "I thought you'd be more concerned about the milk, but I guess I guessed wrong."

Ginny let out a long-suffering sigh, went around to the sink area and pulled out a rag to wipe down the counter. "I'd like the milk, yes. But do you think I'll be a good mum?"

Harry thought for a moment, considering the question. "I think if you can't be a good mum, Ginny, no one can." Walking up behind her, he set the newfound glass of milk on the counter and started rubbing her shoulders gently. "Do you know what else I think?"

"Hmm, what?" Ginny asked, after she'd taken a long swallow of the milk.

"I think maybe you should try to catch a nap now, while you're warm and sleepy," Harry suggested. "Maybe I'll even lay down with you."

Ginny smiled. "Are you going to haul me up the stairs, Mr. Potter?"

Harry chuckled. "No, but I'll stand behind you so you don't fall back down them. How does that sound?"

"I'll take it," Ginny agreed.

* * *

A hazy fog set over her mind, and Ginny felt the impressions of a new world forming. She was standing somewhere – over a sink, mostly likely. And she was herself, but not herself. In her dream, Ginny was skinny again, and she felt taller somehow. Her hair was less _red_ and more auburn and her eyes – her eyes were definitely different. Somehow she knew her eyes were green, and that she was not Ginny Potter at all, but another woman who had shared her surname – Lily.

She was puttering around the kitchen, cleaning up after a meal and listening to the sounds of her husband and her baby. James was bouncing the child and singing a silly song about dragons and Hufflepuffs. Not a tune she (as Lily) recognized, but one Ginny knew from her own childhood.

Although she knew she was not the woman in her dream, she could feel the pleasure Lily got from wiping down the counters herself, in sticking her hands into the warm water she'd soaked the dishes in, and the way it felt to carelessly hum along with her – Lily's – husband.

"James, it's late! Don't you think you should put Harry down?" she called up the stairs as she started to wipe her hands off with a dishtowel.

"Nonsense!" James shouted back, his voice modulating so that Lily knew he was bouncing the baby. "He's mostly nocturnal, anyway."

"We've been trying to fix that, darling," Lily said as she climbed the stairs, meeting James at the top. "It's not fair to us to have him up at all hours when most other children his age are sleeping through the night."

James made a silly face at the bundle in his arms. "Did you hear that, Harry? Mum's tired. Guess that means the jig's up for you, m'boy. Bedtime!"

"Here, James. You're too much of a softie. He'd just stay up until I got back, so I'll put him down. Why don't you go check the security wards?"

Carelessly, James kissed Lily's cheek. "All right. Caught me at my own game. Off I go then, I suppose."

"Yes. Be careful, please."

"Always," James said, and headed down the stairs and out the door.

With a sinking feeling, Ginny realized he would never walk up the stairs again. Desperately, she tried to call out for him, but she could no longer move Ginny's mouth and she was being pulled up, and away.

"Ginny. Ginny," Harry was softly but intently calling her name, resting a hand on her shoulder. "Wake up! You're crying!"

As she slowly fought her way past the fog over her brain, Ginny sat up and wiped her eyes with her hands and swallowed as her own husband came into focus, looking scared and very white. "I'm sorry. Did I frighten you?"

"Nah, I'm made of steel. Pregnant women bawling in their sleep don't scare me," Harry joked sarcastically.

Ginny smiled despite herself. "Pregnant women in general scare you, Harry Potter. Don't even lie."

"All right. You caught me at my own game," Harry admitted.

Suddenly, all the color drained from Ginny's face. "Don't say that." She pulled herself to a standing position and looked at Harry, who was still on his side and looking rather shocked. "I just had… I just had the most disturbing dream."

"Tell me about it," Harry said, patting a space beside him on the bed. "You always told me it was best to talk about dreams. That way they can't haunt us during the day. That's pretty much a direct quote."

Ginny tried to smile. "It was your mum. I was her. Or I wasn't, but I was _in_ her. It's hard to explain. She was messing about in the kitchen, you know. Cleaning up this and that. Your dad was upstairs, playing with you."

Harry swallowed. He had a feeling he knew where this was going. "And then what?"

"Then she came upstairs and told your dad to put you down, that you weren't sleeping all the way through the night and that you should be letting them get some rest. Then your dad left to check the wards. I don't think he came back."

Harry sat in silence, letting the full impact of the dream hit him. He knew this spoke directly to both he and Ginny's worst, and as of yet, unspoken fears.

"I'm going to come back tonight when I check the wards, Ginny. And every night. Because there's no one after us like Voldemort. We've beaten him before and we can destroy anyone like him who tries to take us from our child."

Blinking back tears, the way Harry had phrased the last sentence was not lost on her. "She was lovely, Harry. If you could have felt the _love_ in her heart for you... She loved you the way we already love this baby. We're going to be okay."

"Of course we are," Harry agreed, and ignored the squeezing pressure in his chest that demanded he release some of his emotion. "Um, this seems a weird question, but… your mum called while you were asleep. Do you want to eat at the Burrow tonight?"

Ginny pondered for a moment. "Yes. I think I want my mum. Do you mind if we ask her to stay for a couple of days after the baby gets here?"

Something like relief passed over Harry's face. "Not at all."

* * *

The kitchen of the Burrow bustled with energy as Molly Weasley orchestrated the making of a meal as some others would orchestrate the final movement of a symphony. Seated on a stool that she'd been placed on and told very firmly to rest, Ginny watched her mother efficiently prepare a meal that would surely be able to feed twenty people.

"You know, Mum, they tell me I'm supposed to have gained 25 or 30 pounds with this pregnancy. I think I've gained 40 and it's all your fault."

Molly clucked her tongue. "Young people today worry too much about the numbers. And besides, when you have that bouncing baby in your arms, you're not going to mind the 40 pounds so much."

There was a pause as Molly continued to bustle and Ginny thought through what she wanted to ask. "Mum… what do you know about Lily Potter?"

Molly stopped what she was doing a moment, although the kitchen continued to take care of business. "Well. That seems a strange question."

"It's just that… we know a lot about James. But all Harry has of his mother is a couple of photographs and a few pieces of the memory of that night when she saved him from Voldemort. If I were to die before my child got to know me… I would want there to be more, you know?"

Molly nodded. "They were young, James and Lily. I doubt they thought about leaving scrapbooks and things of that nature lying around. There's always time in the future to do that sort of thing, you think."

"I think I'm going to get a hold of Remus and see what he knows about her, maybe see if any of her friends survived the war. I'd like to do something for Harry while I'm puttering around the house this last month. I need something to keep me from going insane and cleaning the bathroom again."

Molly chuckled, remembering very well what she had been like in each of her pregnancies. "That sounds like a lovely project, my dear. And I'm sure Harry will appreciate it, and maybe even your child at some point."

Ginny smiled and rubbed her belly. "Sometimes it doesn't seem real, like I'll wake up some morning and I won't have all this – Harry, and the baby on the way. It doesn't seem very much like I'll have a child someday soon, who will be able to read and ask questions and…"

"Get into absolutely everything and drive you crazy," Molly finished, "but you will, and those days are coming up fast."

* * *

_Author's Note:_ Thanks to Kat Morning for the fabulous beta and excellent comments! No one else knows how to keep me on track like you do. Chapter Two coming soon! 


	2. Chapter 2: A Vision In Remus

**Chapter Two: A Vision In Remus**

Remus Lupin had been having a good day. He'd started off the morning with a cup of tea which he'd brewed himself, answered all his correspondence for the day and was now settling down in an armchair to enjoy a book.

"Remus? Remus, are you there?" Harry Potter's concerned face filled up the fireplace.

Instantly, Remus got up from his armchair and walked over to the fire, still a bit sore and stiff from the full moon a week before. "Yes, Harry, I'm here."

"Ah, good." Remus could hear the pure relief in Harry's voice. "I'm glad I caught you. I was afraid you might be out."

"I took an evening off," Remus said with a shrug. "Tonks is a bit concerned about my health. I've got a cough and some muscle stiffness."

"What do the Healers at St. Mungo's say?" Harry asked, raising his eyebrows in a way that, in one very painful moment, reminded Remus very much of his father

Swallowing to get past the pain that crept up so often now, Remus smiled. "Oh, you know. I'm a werewolf."

Harry chuckled, and Remus was relieved that Harry let the issue drop. "I'm glad Tonks is there to make you see sense, old man," he teased.

"You and me both," Remus agreed.

"I've got a favor to ask of you, if you're not feeling too poorly," Harry said. "Ginny wants to ask you some questions. She's been having some dreams lately, and she wants your opinion." For a moment, Harry disappeared from the screen and when he returned, he was grinning. "She says to be sure to tell you that she's planning on making soup and bread for lunch tomorrow. Nutritious for werewolves and pregnant women."

Remus guffawed and ran a hand through his hair. "All right. Lunch it is. I'll see you tomorrow."

Ruffling the papers around on his desk, Remus eventually gave up when he realized he didn't even know what he was looking for. He had lost so many things in his life, and gained so many more. He had lost Lily and James, but now Harry and Ginny were in the same position Lily and James had been in 25 years ago.

* * *

"Remus, will you pass the butter?" Lily asked as she broke apart her croissant.

"Hmm, what?" Remus looked up from his paper. "Oh… yes." Wincing a bit as he reached across the table, Remus handed Lily the dish.

"Are you feeling okay?" Lily asked pointedly, pulling down on the newspaper. "Come out of your little world and talk to us."

Remus put down the paper completely and lifted a brow. "Us? There's just you and me."

"And the baby," Lily insisted. "I'm convinced that the baby can hear every word we say."

Remus paled a bit. "Really? Even the other night when we were singing that song…?"

"Yes," Lily said with a soft smile, "but I don't think it can understand us just yet."

"Oh, good." Remus smiled, the action softening some of the lines exhaustion and illness had created on his face.

Lily returned the smile

"I'm worried about James," Lily said vaguely, looking out the door to the pathway that led to the back of the Godric Hollow's Godric's Hollow property.

"He'll come back," Remus said, reaching across the table to squeeze Lily's hand. "He's got a lot to live for."

"I know," Lily said, her eyes far away. "If we… if something was to happen to us, and the baby is left with Sirius, will you promise me something?"

Remus felt the curious pressure on his heart that he got every once in a while when his friends became so serious about the future. "What do you want me to promise?"

Lily grabbed his hand with hers. "If we're gone, will you help Sirius? I know he's going to be a great godfather, but I really want you to be there for our child. Please. question mark? "

Looking out towards the window himself, Remus found himself nodding. "I will, but I don't think it will be necessary. You and James will make it through this war. You have to, so the rest of us can have hope."

Lily's eyes flashed for a moment, and then she ducked her head, focusing her attention on her belly, where her child was growing. "I think…" Lily raised her head. "I think that no matter what happens, it all will turn out okay in the end."

Remus nodded, unsure why the conversation was heading in this direction. "Worst comes to worst, you and James will just disappear for a while. That'll be harder on us than it will be on you."

"There's one more thing, Remus. I've been doing some reading on ancient protection spells and incantations."

Remus raised an eyebrow. "Fascinating reading, to be sure."

Lily tried to chuckle, but failed, forcing a weak smile on her lips. "Try as I might, there's no spell that will protect us from the Killing Curse."

"Lily," Remus said patiently, coming around to the other side of the table to grasp her hand, "we knew that."

"I know, I know. I just couldn't give up on this idea that there had to be _some_ way to stop him. It's just not fair! Magic is supposed to be a balanced scale. For every jinx or hex, there's an counter, a way to remove the damage. There ought to be something we can do."

Remus shrugged. "There ought to be. There isn't anything we can do for now, though."

At the distressed look on Lily's face, Remus squeezed her hand. "Lily. Stop. You're going to be fine. No one's going to get to you or the baby. You know James has been worrying about this all day and night. No one's better than James once he's set his mind to solving a problem."

Tears slid from Lily's eyes down her cheeks. "I know, I know. We didn't want to bring a child into the world when it was like this. I'm so happy this baby is going to be here, and I'm already so much in love. But, oh…what I wouldn't give to have everything _fixed_ before July. I can clean and clean this house and nothing will ever be tidy enough because it feels like the world is never going to be clean enough for this baby!"

"Lily," period or period ellipsis Remus reached out a bit blindly with his hands, finally resting them on her shoulders as she shook with sobs. Lily had been his friend for a long time, longer than she and James had been friends, but he had never seen her like this.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry," she cried. "The closer we get to my due date, the crazier I get. I just cry at the drop of a hat and I'm so anxious about everything. I didn't mean to dump everything on your lap, Remus. I know you've got a lot to worry about without me blubbering all over you."

Remus blushed. "Can I get you something? Like a tea or…"

"No. No. I have tea here in front of me. James should be back any minute and then your turn babysitting the crazy lady will be over."

Chuckling, Remus bent over and kissed the top of Lily's head. "Crazy you may be, but we love you just the same."

"Thanks, Remus," she said, still sniffling. "That's very nice of you to say."

"I meant every word."

At the sound of the front door opening, Remus reached for his wand out of reflex, but Lily pushed herself to her feet and walked as fast as she could to the person who'd just arrived. Remus, muttering to himself, jumped up and hurried after her. However, his concern was unwarranted, for as soon as he got to the door, he saw Lily wrapped in James's arms.

* * *

Still a bit shaky from her dream, Ginny wiped down the table with a washcloth one last time before she set the table, going over her checklist in her head. After a full moon, Remus liked red meat, so she was serving beef soup with vegetables and homemade bread. Remus needed calcium in his bones and so did she, so there was milk to drink. For desert, she'd made her famous treacle fudge. It was a big meal for lunch, but she felt like she was asking a lot of her old professor and she wanted to make it up to him.

Harry had taken the day off of work, expressing concern over the back pain Ginny had been experiencing early in the morning. They were still a few weeks from their due date, though, and Ginny was determined (irrationally, she knew) that the first Potter baby wouldn't come until _she_ was ready.

"Ginny, why don't you sit down at the table and let me get things set up?" Harry asked, coming in from the living room, where he'd been reading 'What to Expect When You're Expecting (The Magic Edition)'.

"I suppose that would be all right," Ginny agreed, sitting down in the chair with the extra pillow on the back that she'd come to need in order to be even close to comfortable. "Do you suppose Remus will be okay with me asking these questions?"

Harry took down the plates and counted out silverware, remnants of his Muggle upbringing, while he thought that over. "I suppose he'll be fine with it. He's always okay with talking about my dad. And… I sort of want to know, too."

Ginny nodded and stroked the edge of the green placemats Luna had sent them as a wedding present. "When you're a teenaged boy, I suppose you're more concerned about your dad."

Harry shrugged. "It was easier to talk about missing my dad, I think. Missing your mum is… more private, somehow."

Sensing how uncomfortable Harry was with the topic, Ginny let out a small yelp and then grinned when Harry looked up. "The baby's kicking! She doesn't do that often anymore. The mediwitch said that's normal."

"He," Harry corrected absently as he came over to feel the spot Ginny had indicated.

"What are you going to do if you do have a daughter?" Ginny asked. "Do you really want a boy that badly?"

"I would be happy either way," Harry admitted, and a blush crawled up to his ears. "I'm not really sure how to handle girls, though. I mean, I grew up Dudley and then I spent part of the summers with Ron, and…"

"Oh, it's about the same as raising boys," Ginny said airily, and then grinned wickedly, "only there's the mood swings and the cliques and the crying at the drop of a hat…."

When Harry groaned, she let out a delighted chuckle. Before they could continue the conversation, the doorbell rang. Pushing herself out of her seat, Ginny was still laughing when she answered the door.

"Remus!" she greeted him with a grin. Although Ginny hadn't been close to him while she was growing up the way that Harry had, she had got to know him quite well after the war with Voldemort ended. He still remained one of her favorite teachers. "It's great to see you again!"

"You're looking lovely," Remus said, returning Ginny's hug gently. He wasn't sure if she was being cautious because of her pregnancy or because of the way he looked, but either way, he was glad that Ginny hadn't greeted him _too_ enthusiastically.

"Nonsense. I look like a beached whale, and feel like one too. It's only for three more weeks, though," Ginny said, leading Remus inside. "I thought we'd eat in the kitchen, if that's okay. It's getting harder for me to clean the dining room like I'd like to."

Remus smiled. "That's fine with me. I'm just happy to be getting a meal I didn't have to cook. Hello, Harry!"

Harry turned around from setting the table to greet Remus with a careful hug. "Hello, Remus! Thanks for coming on such short notice."

Remus shrugged. "I don't mind doing it for you two. It's always a joy to visit, no matter the subject."

The rest of lunch passed pleasantly while Harry and Remus talked of acquaintances in the Order and Ginny ate the small amount of food she could handle. The baby was crowding her insides, sitting firmly on her bladder, and she had to leave twice. Harry gave her a teasing grin each time. The second time, when she came back everything was cleaned up from lunch and Harry and Remus had employed a cleaning charm to do the dishes.

Following the sound of voices, she found both men in the Library. Harry was seated on the loveseat, his arm stretched against the back as if he were waiting for her. Remus had chosen an armchair in Gryffindor red with its back to the fire.

"I'm back," Ginny announced. "Remus, are you warm enough there?"

Remus smiled. "I'm fine, thank you for asking. I must really look terrible."

Blushing, Ginny sat next to Harry and placed a hand on his knee. "Not terrible. Just not as healthy as we've gotten used to."

"There was a mistake with the Wolfsbane Potion this month. Luckily, the only side effect seemed to be extreme nausea. In the wolf form and out of it," Remus said, staring at the floor, seemingly embarrassed. "It's harder for me to take that sort of thing now that I'm not as young as I used to be. I wouldn't worry too much about it, though. I'm going to be fine."

Ginny nodded. "Good."

Harry leaned forward. "Remus, we want your opinion on something. Ginny's been having these dreams."

"Dreams that feel real," Ginny interjected. "Scarily real."

"They're of… my mum. Right before she died." Harry looked Remus directly in the eyes. "Last night she had a dream about you and mum. You were having breakfast, waiting for my dad to come back from… somewhere."

"They seem real, you say," Remus asked, focusing on a point beyond Ginny.

"Yes, very real. I can feel what she feels."

"Is she always… pregnant?" Remus asked, rubbing a hand over his eyes.

"No. The first one was of the night… well, the night she died," Ginny admitted

Remus rose from his chair suddenly and paced over to one of the bookshelves, running his fingers through his hair. "That had to be difficult to witness," he finally said.

"Yes," Ginny admitted. "I feel a bit like Lily's trying… like she wants me to know about her."

"You think she's communicating with you?" Remus asked, still not looking at either one of them.

Harry shook his head. "We have no idea. I know Mum's not a ghost."

"Ghosts are just one manifestation of the echoes of our soul," Remus said absently, staring off into space. "They're the only ones formally recognized because they're the strongest and because they're a conscious form of the non-acceptance of death. Lily was… very much prepared to die for you, Harry."

Ginny gripped Harry's hand. "So you're saying it's possible that she's doing this to me?"

"She wouldn't be malicious about it," Remus said, his hand shaking as he formed it into a fist and rested it on the shelf. "She was anything but."

Ginny shook her head. "I think she wants me to know about her. I think she wants me to know what she went through."

Remus was silent for a long time. "Family was important to Lily. She didn't have the greatest one, but she did have James, and that meant the world to her. I think… I think she would have wanted you to know what she was like, because you're her family now."

Harry squeezed Ginny's hand. "Why aren't I the one having the dreams?"

Remus shrugged his shoulders. "I couldn't say. My best guess is that Ginny and Lily are very close in age at the moment and in similar states of mind. It would be easier for Ginny to pick up on the 'echoes' of Lily's emotions."

"How do we make the dreams stop?" Harry asked intently. "If we don't stop them soon, I'm afraid she'll see…"

"Yes," Remus said, interrupting Harry's train of thought. Saying it out loud would be too painful to contemplate. "Lily did have one friend who survived the war. One female friend. Her name is Kathleen. At the time of James and Lily's death, Kathleen was abroad in France. She disappeared from the wizarding world. We all assumed she was dead, but…. She's in St. Mungo's now, being treated for shock. Sometimes you can understand her and she can understand you. Maybe visiting her might give you some insight into Lily and what's causing the dreams. I will do more research on my end, of course…"

"Why didn't you say anything about that to me?" Harry asked, torn between anger and grief.

Remus shrugged and swallowed painfully. "I don't know, Harry. I just don't know."

* * *

Author's Notes: Thanks to Kat Morning for making sure Remus stayed in character and the melodrama stayed at a minimum. DPR helped me avoid comma and ellipse disasters. 


	3. Chapter 3: A Vision In Night

**Chapter 3: A Vision in Night**

The smell of St. Mungo's always reminded Harry of the war. Over the years he'd come here to visit many friends, some whom were still here because of the lingering effects of attacks by Death Eaters. He knew what to expect when he walked in the door-- from the staff and visitors -- and mainly from himself. Once he had learned that the flood of memories would hit him, he was better prepared to deal with their onslaught. Now he knew he would only have to pause momentarily at the door, gain control of his emotions, and head to the front desk.

"Mr. Potter," the mediwitch greeted him cheerfully, after a quick glance towards his scar. "We aren't expecting you for at least a couple of weeks yet, but I suppose babies come at their own time, don't you?"

Harry smiled. He had encountered this woman before and knew her to be quick, cheerful, and knowledgeable about everyone in the hospital and his or her personal business. "No, I'm not here about Ginny, and I hope we've got at least a couple weeks yet, but don't tell Ginny I said that."

"Tired of being pregnant, is she?" The mediwitch closed one of the files she'd been studying, waved her hand, and it obligingly disappeared. "What I can I do for you then, Mr. Potter?"

Harry walked forward and rested his elbows on the counter. "I need to know about a woman you've been treating here. I've been told she has, um… shock, I think is what Remus said. Kathleen…."

"…Bobertruss," the mediwitch finished absently, waving her hand over a book ? . "Ah, yes, there she is." Twisting the file around, she turned the information towards Harry. "Normally we can't do this, you know, but since you're Harry Potter, and she's got no living relatives, I figure it's okay."

Harry studied the picture of the serious brunette woman carefully. "What does 'shock' mean, exactly? If I bring Ginny here to see her will she aggravate Ginny's condition?"

"Do you mean will it send her into premature labor? I don't know that there's much in this world that could get your wife _that_ upset, Mr. Potter," the mediwitch said. "Seems to me that she's a real rock."

Harry smiled. "Oh, she is. I… ever since she…Well, in any case, I thought it might be best to ask."

The mediwitch grinned. "Mr. Potter, that's very sweet of you. It occurs to me that Mrs. Potter is a very lucky woman."

Harry blushed down to his collar. "I, um. I'll let her know you said that. But, um… Mrs. Bobertruss?"

"Miss," the mediwitch corrected, closing the book ? . "She's, well, she's not fine, but she does better than some of our patients. There's a strange effect the Cruciatus Curse has on some of its victims. Most times she's fine, but I would recommend you get here before the sun sets. You won't get anything out of her after the sun sets. For her, every night is 1980."

Harry blinked. "I guess we'll come in the late morning, then."

The mediwitch nodded. "That would be best. She's a bit strange, you know. Sleep deprivation. We do our best to make sure she sleeps, but lately she's been nearly uncontrollable at night." The mediwitch shuddered a bit. "I guess there's something in the air."

Chills danced down Harry's spine. "I suppose so."

* * *

Ginny was bored. Although Harry had managed to go nearly the full length of the pregnancy without turning into a mother hen, something about the strange events of the last week had made him nearly unbearable. Understandably so, she thought in her more sane moments, but she was fat and hot and unable to focus on anything for more than a few minutes at a time. The end of her pregnancy seemed miles away.

A knock on the door had her sighing, rising to her feet and waddling her way to the front of the house. When she opened the door, the sight of Molly Weasley had her throwing her arms open. "Mum!"

"Ginny," Molly returned just as enthusiastically, giving her daughter a squeeze about the shoulders, since she could no longer fit her arms around her stomach. "How have you been, dear?"

"Fat, irritable, hot," Ginny responded, though she was smiling now. "Thank you for coming. I probably would have driven myself completely loony if you hadn't shown up."

Molly smiled. "I remember the feeling quite well. I thought I'd pop in, maybe make you some lunch, and have a nice visit. I spoke with Hermione earlier and she said she'd try to make it as well."

A grin overtook Ginny's whole face, and she finally smiled with her eyes. "That's wonderful! Harry's out of the house. He wanted to run some errands, and then Dad wanted his opinion about something at the Ministry, so it will be just us girls. Come on in, Mum."

As she gestured inside, a soft pop announced Hermione's presence. "Seems I got here just in time," Hermione said with a bright smile.

"Mum says she's making lunch. I would say that's just in time," Ginny said with a grin. After the two women had exchanged a warm hug, Ginny pulled away. "Is today your day off?"

Hermione nodded. "I had a doctor's appointment today so Ron and I both skived off. We thought I might…"

Ginny gripped her friend's arm. "Good news?"

A soft smile overtook Hermione's face. "In about seven months, I'll be a mum, too."

Ginny was unable to help herself. She squealed, hugging Hermione again. "Oh, this is wonderful! I needed some happy thoughts. Ron must be over the moon."

"Oh, he is. He's gone off to try and catch Harry for some lunch in that pub in Diagon Alley that they both like."

"Good!" Ginny stepped back. "Come in, Hermione. Mum is going to want to fuss over you and I'm going to want to hear all the details."

As Molly bustled about in the kitchen, refusing help from Ginny or Hermione, conversation revolved around babies, soft materials and colors, and what sort of pram Hermione would like to get. Of course, she would have liked to have done all of her research before she actually got pregnant, but nature had decided otherwise.

"And how are you doing, Ginny?" Molly asked after they had given their opinions on all the options. "Still having those dreams you told me about?"

Hermione turned to look at Ginny, raising an eyebrow. "You've been having nightmares?"

"Not exactly. There's nothing about them that's inherently frightening," Ginny said, taking the plate of salad Molly handed her.

"They're all of Lily Potter," Molly supplied. "Scenes from her daily life."

Hermione tapped her fingers on the counter. "That seems at least explainable. You and Harry… I suppose there are a lot of parallels to James and Lily. You were both targeted by Voldemort, defeated him through love…."

"Yes," Ginny muttered, "but these are so _real_. It feels like Lily's trying to communicate with me."

Hermione, ever suspicious of anything concerning the not easily explained, tapped her fork against her salad plate. "Do you feel like she's trying to warn you?"

Ginny shrugged. "I don't know. I'm confused right now, but I'm learning so much about Lily – and James. I wish I knew what the ultimate purpose was."

Hermione nodded. "I can see that. I've done some interesting reading on dream communication in the past. I can revisit some of the theories, if you'd like."

Ginny smiled. Of course Hermione had done some reading on something like this before. She always had. "Yes, please. At this point, I'll take any advice, any theory you've got."

"Are the dreams every night? I mean, have you been able to get some rest?"

Rubbing her arms, Ginny sighed. "They never last long. Harry always wakes me up, and eventually I go back to sleep. I've been getting all the rest I need. I haven't been doing anything strenuous -- at the request of the mediwitch."

Nodding, Hermione took Ginny's hand. "I know dreams can be disturbing."

"Luckily, I happen to be married to a man who knows more about recovering from visions in dreams than anyone has a right to."

Clucking her tongue, Molly laid her hand on top of the other two women's. "I'm sure we'll be able to work this out, dear, but things such as this, I have learned, often have a way of presenting their purpose themselves."

At that thought they all resumed eating, and the conversation turned to other, more pleasant, things.

* * *

Harry was snoring gently next to her, his hand resting on top of her belly when she slid into unconsciousness. When she slid into the dream…

* * *

"James," Lily whispered, kissing his cheek. "It's time to wake up."

"I don't want to," James whispered back, curving a hand around the nape of her neck.

Giggling, Lily laid herself on top of James's chest, burying her hand in his hair. "I think we'll have one very upset baby if we don't get up and change him sometime. And, my love, it is your turn to do so. I feed him; you have to do the clean-up work."

Opening his eyes and gazing up blearily at his wife, James sighed. "I can't very well change him at the moment. You know I can only think of one thing at a time, and while you're lying on top of me like that…"

Lily grinned. "Ah, you've discovered my evil plan. Go change the baby and I'll reward you."

Flipping Lily over on to her back, James grinned down at her before he kissed her passionately. "Is that a promise or a threat?" he asked, smiling at the dazed look in his wife's eyes.

"Both," she said, laughing. "Now, go."

* * *

The dream changed…

* * *

Lily and James lay replete and satisfied, with James's head on top of Lily's stomach while she played idly with his hair.

"Lily my love," James said, closing his eyes to the simple pleasure of her fingers in his hair, "we should really talk about what Dumbledore is saying."

Lily sighed, stilling the motion of her fingers. Sitting up, James leaned against the headboard and drew Lily into his lap.

"If we go into hiding," James said, "we'll be isolated."

"Yes," Lily said. "We wouldn't be able to visit with friends. It would be just you and me."

"We'd have to limit how much we ventured outside," James said. "If we use this charm versus some of the wards we've been talking about, it might very well anger him and he'd target us at work. He'll redouble his efforts."

"But the charm is nearly foolproof," Lily said. "We'd have to pick the one person we trust absolutely."

"Dumbledore has offered," James said, sighing. "He's already done so much for us."

Lily nodded. "And he seems the obvious choice. Voldemort already hates him. Maybe this would finally motivate him to attack. I trust Dumbledore absolutely, but if Voldemort went after the students…"

"Agreed," James said. "What about… Sirius?"

Lily sucked in a breath. "He's grown up an awful lot over the past year. And when we made him Harry's godfather, we told him we'd trust him with Harry's life. If we can trust him with Harry's life, we can trust him with our own," she said. "If we're going to do this, we need to ask Sirius. I would trust no one else."

"What about Meghan? Or Kathleen?" James asked.

"No. They're both starting families. We need someone who only has to worry about themselves."

James nodded. "Of course."

Tears drifted down Lily's cheeks, silently. "It's such a terrible thing to ask someone. We'd effectively be asking him to bear the brunt of Voldemort's wrath. If he dies…"

"…He dies for us," James said, dragging in a ragged breath. "How do we live with that?"

"How can we not?" Lily asked. "I love Sirius, but Harry... Harry deserves a chance at life."

"So are we decided then?" James asked, wrapping his arms completely around Lily.

"I suppose we are," Lily said, leaning her head back against James's shoulder. "For Harry."

James nodded. "For Harry."

Their lips met in a tender kiss, and they lay down next to each other, spooning in the dark, though neither one slept the rest of that night.

* * *

When Ginny awoke, Harry was standing at the window in his boxer briefs, staring out at the rain falling on their lawn.

"I was going to wake you," he said, "but you were smiling and crying at the same time."

Ginny pushed herself upright so she was sitting. "Are you okay?"

Harry snorted. "I don't think that you're the one that needs to be asking that question."

"Harry," Ginny said pleadingly, walking across the room to stand behind him, lowering her head between his shoulder blades. "Please, tell me what's bothering you."

"It's supposed to be over," Harry said, lowering his forehead to the window. "We're not supposed to have to worry about Voldemort anymore."

Ginny wrapped her arms around his waist. "The worst of it is over. We have a new start here, Harry."

Shaking his head, Harry turned around, wrapping Ginny in a tight embrace. "I don't like this, Gin. These dreams of my mum, what the mediwitch said about Kathleen at St. Mungo's… something in the air is not right."

Ginny sighed because she felt the same thing that Harry did. "I know neither one of us likes this, but I'm not sure what we're supposed to do."

"It's times like this when I wish Dumbledore was still alive," Harry admitted. "As badly as some of his choices turned out for me, there was no one like him for giving advice, or knowing what to say."

Ginny nodded. "We all seem to be a bit lost."

"How… how was mum tonight?" Harry asked finally.

Ginny blushed. "Ah, she was fine. Your dad and mum decided to use the Fidelius Charm tonight."

Harry blushed too, and then chuckled. "I suppose I had to get here somehow."

"Harry," Ginny said, laughing too. "What are we going to do with you?"

"Dunno," Harry admitted and then grinned. "Wanna snog?"

Ginny burst out laughing. "That's the least romantic line you've ever used."

"Is it going to work?" Harry asked, waggling his eyebrows.

"Sadly enough, it just might."

* * *

A/N: Okay, so I promised the muses 5 chapters. Um… we'll see. Thanks to the HP Lexicon for their invaluable services in providing the correct spellings for curses (I always like to double check my Latin). Thanks, as always, to Kat Morning and Daily Prophet Reporting for their fabulous job. Without them, this fic would sorely lack polish. 


	4. Chapter 4: A Vision in Blood

**Chapter Four: A Vision In Blood**

The screaming in room four on the Janus Thickery Ward had finally come to a stop. Shaking, Magntra Spectus closed the door and collapsed against it, her limbs shaking in relief. With a cluck of sympathy, the senior mediwitch, Electra, came over to her and handed her a mug of tea.

"Is this your first time having to deal with that?" she asked, patting Magntra's shoulder. "You look a bit pale."

"They never prepared us for anything like that in the training," Magntra admitted. "I've _never_ had to deal with anything like that before. She was so calm, but she was so cruel."

Electra nodded. "She gets in that mindset. Sometimes she spends more time crying than she does trying to kill you."

"I don't know which would be worse," Magntra said, pushing away from the wall and walking towards the stairs. "I'm just glad I'm going home."

"Well, you did well for your first day on the job. Most of the first-time nurses run screaming from Kathleen Bobertruss' room after a few hours."

Mangtra straightened her shoulders and looked over at Electra. "Was that some sort of sick test?"

Electra shrugged. "You're the newbie on the floor. We have to know you can handle anything."

"Crazed women attacking me with their own medical equipment and? muttering _Unforgivables_ at me is not just 'anything'! I am not _trained_ to deal with crazy people."

There was a series of loud _crashes_ coming from room four. Electra and Magntra both took off running, bursting through the door. The room was in shambles, the windows and every picture frame broken, as though a Bludger had been let loose. In the middle of the room, laying on the floor, her head tilted at such an odd angle that Magntra knew right away her neck had been broken, was Kathleen.

"I was just _here!_" Magntra exclaimed. "She was alive! There was nothing to… She was _restrained!_ I double-checked! There's no way she could have done anything to hurt herself, I swear it."

Grasping Magntra's hand, Electra paled and swallowed. "It's all right. I know you did your best to ensure her safety. At this point, hospital procedure takes over, which states that we leave the area as untouched as possible. We don't go any further in." She drew in a deep breath "We're going to have to call the M.L.E.S. They're going to want to know everything they can about the patient, the type of restraints used... what medication we were giving her that might have caused an accident like this..."

"This has to have been an accident, right?" Magntra asked, grasping her superior's forearm. They dealt with death every day, but never before had she witnessed something so brutal and efficient at the same time. "No wizard kills like this. It's too barbaric!"

"No, but Muggles do," Electra said quietly, wiping her hands on her cloak in an air of determination. "I'll Floo the Ministry. I imagine they'll be here quickly. We'll just sit here and keep other people from going in, I suppose."

Magntra sank to the floor, resting her back against the wall. "All right. Go Floo the Ministry. I'm going to sit here and catch my breath."

* * *

After the war, Ron Weasley had joined the Magical Law Enforcement Squad because he'd been tired of hunting down Dark Wizards and wanted to help more people directly. Originally, his help in defeating Lord Voldemort had gotten him an entry-level position. His tactical skills and quick intellect, as well as his street-wise vocabulary, had endeared him to many of his peers and superiors, and he'd risen quickly in the ranks. He was now the Chief Investigative Officer for the Ministry, rarely doing the actual fieldwork himself, but supervising many investigations at once.

"Mr. Weasley?" There was a timid knock on the door, followed by the appearance of a bright-eyed youth, still fresh on the job, Archibald Grindlock. "Um, I'm supposed to tell you that there's a case you might want to give your personal attention to."

Ron sighed, pushing his chair away from the desk where he'd been furiously notating the investigation of the Malfoy family residence. None of the Malfoys had survived the war, but there was an ongoing investigation into the artifacts left in the home and the connections they had to other known and unknown Death Eaters. "Who sent you?"

"It was Jordan, sir. He said you would want to look at this one yourself. Crazy lady over at St. Mungo's."

Ron raised an eyebrow. "Really? They're sure it's not a suicide."

"No, sir. I mean, they're pretty sure it's not, sir. The way the body was laid out makes that pretty impossible, and I don't know of many people who can snap their own necks. Sir."

Ron tapped his quill against the file impatiently. "So… she's lying in bed, asleep and restrained?"

"Actually, no. She's only crazy at night, apparently."

Ron stopped tapping. "Come again?"

"She's a victim of the Cruciatus Curse. Perfectly sane during the day, can remember the time, the day, the year, that sort of thing…."

"So she's at least better off than the Longbottoms," Ron muttered.

"Sir?" Archibald asked.

"Ignore me. Keep going," Ron said, leaning forward over the desk.

"It's just at night. She used to get stuck on reliving the night that it happened. The nurses tell me it was really bad. They had to use restraints, otherwise she'd try to kill anyone that got in her way. Anyway, Magntra, the nurse on duty that night…"

"Magntra? Really?" Ron asked, his voice incredulous.

"Yes, sir. She was the nurse on duty that night and she told me that she was as bad as the rest of the staff had told her she would be. When she left that night, Mrs. Bobertruss was still in her restraints. She'd exhausted herself, apparently. She and Hobbs, the Head Mediwitch, were standing outside of the room having a bit of a tiff when they heard this crash…."

"They both heard the crash?"

"Yes, sir. They both heard the crash. They ran into the room and they found Mrs. Bobertruss just like I'd described, you know. Legs spread out with her neck snapped."

"Do we have photographs of the crime scene yet?" Ron asked, rising to his feet.

"No, sir, we don't, though Jordan authorized bringing Creevey in on this one. I thought you'd want the best."

"Mrs. Bobertruss have any friends? Family? Anyone slated to visit her in the next couple of days?" Ron was busy clasping his cloak.

Archibald cleared his throat. "Actually, sir, she was slated to receive only one set of visitors this month."

"Who was that?"

"Harry and Ginny Potter."

* * *

Harry had been sleeping peacefully until Ron's voice roused him from his bed. He would have ignored the Floo, except Ron seemed quite insistent. Rolling over and wincing as his feet hit the hardwood floor of the master bedroom, he padded his way to the fireplace, groping blindly on the mantle to find his glasses. He was certain that was where he'd left them last. "Ron. Ron, will you shut up for just a minute? This is the first night of decent sleep Gin's got all month and I want to take advantage of it. Give me a minute and I'll Floo you from the fireplace down in the living room."

Without waiting for an answer, he quenched the flames and jogged down the stairs to the living room fireplace. Throwing in some Floo powder and whispering the address of Ron's office, he only had to wait a moment.

"What's so bloody important you had to wake me up at four o'clock in the morning?"

"Harry, I need you to be completely honest with me. Do you know a Kathleen Bobertruss?"

Harry rocked back on his heels, finally dropping all the way to a floor. "Not in a manner of speaking."

"Dammit, Harry. This is serious."

Harry knew the full implications of what Ron Flooing him meant. Kathleen Bobertruss was seriously injured, if not dead. "She was a friend of mum's. We were supposed to go meet with her tomorrow to see if she had any idea what was causing these dreams of Ginny's."

"You'd never met her before in your life." It was a statement, but Ron's eyes were hard. Harry grimaced. Ron was in full cop mode.

"No, I'd never met her before. Remus was the one who mentioned her to me. I was put out, actually. I didn't know that any of mum's friends had survived the first war."

Ron nodded. "I'd always got the impression that only your dad's friends had survived. Well, that at least helps. If you can come into my office tomorrow, I'll want your official statement."

"Yes, of course," Harry agreed. "I don't want to keep you from your investigation at this point, I suppose."

Ron looked over some photos an invisible aide had handed him. "I know you're really busy with Quidditch and all that…."

"Pfft. It's the off-season."

"I'd like your help with this. I've got a bad feeling this is going to drag some skeletons out of the closet. The initial magic residue scans show _extremely_ high dark magic marks, but I can't recognize any of the curses they used. Harry, this is your area of expertise."

Harry sighed. "I suppose I can run down there and take a look. She was a friend of mum's, after all. I just was really hoping this would solve the nightmare issue Ginny's been having. She's going to be sleep-deprived enough as it is when the baby actually gets here."

"Something about that has always rubbed me wrong," Ron admitted. "Maybe we can put some of the pieces together without Miss Bobertruss's help."

"Maybe," Harry said. "I'll get dressed and meet you… where?"

"Meet me at St. Mungo's. I'll give you security clearance. They should let you up there without any problem. Don't know why I bother anyway, Harry Bloody Potter."

Harry grinned. "Thanks, mate. I'll be there as soon as I can."

* * *

Ginny was paralyzed by the dream. Trapped in the body of Lily Potter, she was unable to do anything but bear the pain of a woman in labor. Her efforts to wake herself up were to no avail, and Harry hadn't tried to wake her up yet, either.

"Lily. Lily, love, I need you to focus," a patient midwife was instructing her. "Bear down when you feel the contraction hit, all right?"

Huffing and puffing, Lily was only able to glare at the woman until she got her breath. When she was finally able to say something, it was not anything to be repeated in polite company.

When the next contraction hit, carrying her to a place beyond sensation, she bore down, pushing with all her might, the edges of her vision blurring. There was only Lily, the baby and the driving need to get him _out._

"I can see the crown of the head, Lily! Push!"

Dimly, she could hear the door open and the sound of James inquiring how she was doing. The midwife gave him a terse answer, and he closed the door again, heading back out to guard the perimeter of the house. He would have liked to be present for the delivery, as was becoming the trend, but they were still too afraid of an attack by Death Eaters for him to risk her safety.

At this moment, though, safety be damned, she wanted her husband. He'd got her into this situation, he needed to be here!

"_James!_" she yelled when the next contraction hit. They were like waves now, one coming upon another before it had finished.

The room itself seemed to shake with the power of the next contraction, rending Ginny from Lily. She was floating above the room, watching her husband being born.

Lily, her knees pushed up to her chest, suddenly snapped her eyes open in a moment of clarity. She looked straight at Ginny. "Run."

* * *

Ginny woke with a start, panting and grasping for Harry. She found a warm spot where he was supposed to be. A note on the pillow in his typically awful handwriting told her that he had gone to help Ron with a case. Furiously, she sat all the way up and stalked to the kitchen, wiping tears away from her eyes.

How _dare_ he not be here! Why didn't he try and wake her up? They had an appointment to see that Bobertruss woman today, and…

The doorbell rang. Ginny waddled to the door, uncaring of her appearance. When she opened it to reveal Hermione, she was overcome by a wave of relief.

"Ginny!" Hermione looked shocked and enveloped her in a hug. "What happened?"

Sniffling, Ginny led her inside and told her all about the dream. "Then I wasn't her anymore. She looked straight at me and told me to run."

Hermione shivered, wiping Ginny's face with a tissue. "And of course, Harry the great prat wasn't here, was he?"

"No. He left a note. He's out helping my brother solve a case. Harry said Ron needed his expertise with dark magic."

Hermione nodded. "Harry's wasted playing Quidditch. He's a great player, that's for sure, but he's great at so many other things."

"We've been talking about him maybe going back to teach at Hogwarts after he's done playing professionally," Ginny admitted. "He doesn't admit it, most days, but he loves sharing his knowledge with other people. Especially if it means that they'll be better able to protect themselves."

"Still doesn't change the fact that he didn't wake up his pregnant wife to tell her where he was going. Insensitive git."

"Agreed," Ginny said, and both girls dissolved into a fit of giggles. "I'm so glad you came today. These dreams have put me off-kilter. I don't whether I'm coming or going most days."

"What did the mediwitch say when you went to see her yesterday?"

"She said that some women have strange dreams during the last month of their pregnancies and I shouldn't worry about it too much."

"Bullocks," Hermione said firmly. "It's true some women have strange dreams, but most women don't have such disturbing nightmares they can't sleep at night." At the look of protest on Ginny's face, Hermione clucked her tongue. "Harry keeps us up to date on what's going on. We're all very worried about you."

"Well, we're supposed to go see a friend of Harry's mum this morning. Maybe she'll have some idea of what's going on."

The back door near the kitchen opened and Harry and Ron entered, both looking utterly exhausted.

"Ah, Hermione," Ron said, holding out his arms and folding her into himself, "I had a feeling I'd find you here."

"When you sent me that owl telling me that you'd stolen Harry away, I knew Ginny would need my help."

"I'd better owl St. Mungo's and let them know we're not going to visit that woman this morning," Ginny said. When Harry blinked at her, she shrugged her shoulders. "Obviously, you're too exhausted to go. We can wait."

Ron shifted on his feet, his eyes moving about the room, resting anywhere but on his sister and her expectant gaze.

"Was that the reason you needed Harry this morning? Was it her?" Paling, Ginny sank onto the bar stool.

"I'm afraid so," Ron said, fisting his hands against his sides, obviously uncomfortable. "She was found dead this morning at St. Mungo's."

"Murdered?" After a moment, Ginny stared down at her lap. "Of course she was murdered. Otherwise you wouldn't be paying much attention, right?"

"Yes." Harry knelt down in front of her, resting his palms on her knees. "I… I guess we start back at square one trying to figure out your nightmares."

Ginny blinked furiously, keeping tears for a woman she'd never met out of her eyes. "I guess so."

"Ginny," Hermione began, only to be cut off.

"No, it's okay. I'm fine. Harry… will you come lay down with me? I didn't get much sleep last night and I think we all need rest." Without waiting for a response, she scooted off the stool and headed up the stairs to the bedroom.

Ron and Hermione exchanged a quiet glance and locked hands before Ron spoke again.

"I know I need to recharge before I attempt to do any more thinking. I'll Floo in about six hours, okay mate?"

"Take care of Ginny, Harry," Hermione said earnestly.

"I'll do my best," Harry said very seriously, leaning in to squeeze Hermione's hand and touch his cheek to hers.

"We'd better go, Hermione," Ron said firmly, tugging a little on Hermione's hand. "Six hours, right?"

Harry nodded, his thoughts already up the stairs with his wife. "I'll see you in six hours."

* * *

A/N: Oh, what fools ye mortals be, that think 5 chapters is long enough to tell a LadyChi story. Obviously, we won't be resolving this one in the next chapter. I tried my best, but… no. Many thanks (again) to Kat Morning and Daily Prophet Reporting. A better beta team no author has ever been blessed with. 


	5. Chapter 5: A Vision in Madness

**Chapter Five: A Vision in Madness**

Harry surveyed the crime scene with a lump of bile rising in his throat. The M.L.E.S. had done a good job of marking and labeling the physical evidence. That would make his job easier. Glancing around, he noted Ron walking towards him.

"Hell of a mess," Harry said softly.

"Brutal," Ron agreed. "I haven't seen anything this nasty since the war."

"It doesn't carry any of the trademarks of a Death Eater attack," Harry observed. "In fact, it looks rather like a Muggle did this."

"It does," Ron agreed, "but I don't think this was the work of a Muggle. There'd be no reason for them attack a patient at St. Mungo's, even if they knew where it was."

"Why attack Kathleen, period? She's been locked in the loony bin for years. I don't see any way for her to upset anyone. There's always the possibility that this was a random attack, I suppose," Harry said. "We can't be sure until I examine the room."

"You want to look at the initial scans?"

"No, thanks," Harry said absent-mindedly. "Do you mind clearing everyone out? I'm going to try something that's supposed to be purely theoretical."

"Will it hold up in court?"

"It should. It's Hermione Weasley theory. That's usually pretty unshakeable." Exchanging a grin, Harry and Ron separated. Moments later, the few people who'd been snapping photographs and marking mysterious things down on clipboards exited the room and Harry was able to observe the crime scene alone.

They had yet to remove the body, and the grotesque position of the corpse had initially made Harry a little light-headed. Having survived a war with Voldemort, he was intimately acquainted with death, but time had softened him and he was no longer used to seeing such atrocities. There was no need for it, he thought bitterly, sinking to a squatting position, looking around the room. He was no criminal investigator, but he could tell the majority of the crime had been done the Muggle way. He was looking, then, for remnants of a Silencing Charm, or something else? that would have prevented the Healers on duty from noticing that such a violent, presumably noisy, crime was taking place.

The other problem was the amount of time the killer had to commit the crime. Killing someone this brutally would be slow, especially if the victim were conscious enough to fight her attacker, as it looked like Kathleen had from the bruises and scrapes on her arms.

Rising to his feet, Harry spread out his arms and said in a quiet but firm voice, "_Narratio."_ His ability to perform magic without a wand had developed during the war with Voldemort, but he preferred not to demonstrate his talent in front of large crowds.

Instantly, the room came alight, a web of colors displaying all the magic that had taken place in this room within the last day. Immediately, he was able to detect the pattern for a restraining charm, distinctly marked by pulsing red in loops around the bed posts. There were some other frivolous charms, like the one that had, at some point, produced flowers on the coffee table. That was an interesting piece of magic for someone who didn't have very many visitors, Harry thought. Perhaps a kindly nurse had performed the charm. There wasn't anyone on the visitors list for the last several days, but the murderer hadn't signed in when he showed up to kill her, either.

He walked over to the window, where the assailant had obviously entered. There was evidence of a hastily attempted, but failed, _Reparo_ charm. Someone had tried to cover his tracks and had failed miserably. Or maybe he just felt guilty about destroying St. Mungo's property because there was no sign that he had broken in using a spell.

"Ron!" Harry called as he walked over to the body, examining the web of magic that surrounded it, and was immediately fascinated by what he saw.

Barreling inside, Ron rushed to Harry's side, then gaped a bit at the colorful web surrounding him. "Blimey, is this what Hermione's been up to lately?"

"Yes," Harry said distractedly. "Look Ron. See that line from the bed to where the body is laying now?"

"Yeah," Ron said. "Does that mean they moved her body magically?"

Harry nodded. "Doesn't make much sense, does it? You break into St. Mungo's using some sort of crude Muggle tool, you break a witch's neck, supposedly through a severe trauma, also without magic, but you _move_ the body magically and attempt to repair the glass of the window as you escape?"

"Strange," Ron muttered. "Not a very smart move on our criminal's part. Although we would have never guessed that she broke her neck elsewhere and then was moved here."

Harry nodded. "I think he, or she, was very careful about this. I'm surer now than ever that this was planned. I don't think we can lay the blame of this one on a random crazy person. Whoever did this was out to get Kathleen specifically."

"Are we certain they broke her neck the Muggle way?" Ron asked, leaning down to turn the head of the body.

"It looks to me like there are finger marks," Harry commented. "I suppose it could be magical bruising. Has anyone scanned the body for curse residue?"

"That's usually done at the lab," Ron said, pushing himself all the way upright. "It seems to me that someone went a long way out of their way to make sure you thought it was a Muggle or a Squib that did this."

"Odd how it happens the night before you're supposed to visit, too," Ron said. "Especially since Ginny's been having those dreams, visions, whatever."

"Seems like a lot of coincidences. There's a lot of interest springing up suddenly about my mum and dad, and I'd like to know why." Harry ended the spell with a wave of his hand and walked out of the door. "I mean, Ginny starts to have the dreams, and then Remus pulls Kathleen out of nowhere…. I've got a sneaking suspicion I'm not being told the whole truth about something."

"Do you suppose someone or something is sending Ginny the dreams?"

"I don't know," Harry admitted, running a hand through his hair in frustration. "She can't sleep at night. She's irritable during the day, and sometimes she starts crying for no reason. You know, more so than she has been because of the pregnancy."

Ron winced in sympathy. "That's rough, mate."

"I just don't want something to happen to her or the baby. If she doesn't get enough rest, and she can't take care of herself, well… The Healers think she definitely needs to get more sleep, otherwise there might be complications in labor. She might be too tired to push, and then they'll have to open her up magically. That's always more complicated."

Ron sighed and moved to the door, opening it for Harry. "Harry, why don't you concentrate on figuring out the Ginny problem, yeah? I'll focus on working out who did this here."

Harry yawned and stretched. "Ginny's dreams sound more and more like visions every day," he said. "We haven't had much luck doing research to try and fix this problem, so I think I'm going to go visit Hogwarts' resident Divination expert."

Ron paused and turned. "Trelawney? Are you out of your mind? The woman's mental."

"No, Ron. Firenze."

"Oh, right. I knew you meant that," Ron said, stuffing his hands in his pockets, a bit embarrassed. "Let me know how that goes, will you? I don't think you'll get much out of him. He never was very comprehensible in school."

"Of course. You'll hear from me tonight, no matter what." Harry said, laying a hand on Ron's shoulder.

"I appreciate that," Ron said, shaking his head. "She's my baby sister, yeah? If anyone's deserved an easy life, it's you and Ginny."

"No one agrees with you more than I do," Harry said with a sigh, and at that, the two friends shook hands quickly and went their separate ways.

* * *

Ginny was _tired._ In a back-aching, tunnel-vision, mind-numbing sort of way. It was bad enough to be nearly nine months pregnant, but now Ginny was afraid to even close her eyes. Sometimes the visions, as she had come to think of them, were pleasant, but other times they were downright disturbing, and they were _never_ restful.

In desperation, she'd gone to the Healer once more and demanded something to help her sleep, uninterrupted by dreams. Unfortunately, all the potions that performed this duty were considered unsafe to be used by pregnant women, though the Healers were very concerned about her lack of rest.

Ginny had begun to wonder if this was going to be her life – visions every night and unrelenting exhaustion during the day. She simply couldn't live this way. Before the baby came, she would need to rest. How would she cope with a lifetime of restless nights?

There was a knock on the door and Ginny waddled her way to answer it. When she saw who was, she smiled sympathetically and enveloped Remus in a warm hug.

"Hello, Remus," she said, stepping aside. "Please, come in."

There was an awkward silence as Ginny searched for something to say to Remus that would acknowledge his loss. Although she had no idea how close Remus had been to Kathleen, she knew it would still be painful to lose anyone from her class of Gryffindors and imagined it would be the same for him, as well.

"Remus, I'm so sorry…."

Remus swallowed and smiled painfully. "I'm fine, Ginny. It's just a bit strange to be the only one left. I'm not really here to wallow in my misery, though. Has Harry or Ron sent you any word about how the investigation's going?"

"No. Harry left earlier this morning. Ron said that the dark magic scans had come back with strange results, so they called in Harry."

Remus chuckled a bit distractedly. "I don't know why Harry insists on calling himself a professional Quidditch player when his real expertise lies in the Dark Arts. I suppose he needed a break."

Ginny smiled. "I think it lets him sleep easier at night. Would you like a cup of tea while you're here, Remus?"

Remus shook his head and sat down on the couch in the living room. "No, I'm fine. I was here primarily to see how _you_ are doing."

Ginny took a seat very slowly. She was reminded once again that Remus was one of the best Defense teachers she'd ever had. "I can't sleep at night. The dreams are all-consuming, and they've increased in intensity."

"Well, I've been thinking and I've been doing some research," Remus said, leaning forward a bit. "Harry sent word to me that he's planning to speak to Firenze later today. Perhaps he'll know more about this than I do, but I think that Lily's trying to communicate with you. It's either that, or someone is trying to drive you insane."

"I've come to that conclusion as well," Ginny said honestly. "The visions definitely seem to be purposeful -- more so now than they used to be."

After a pause, Remus spoke. "How often would you say that Harry visits the Potter vault at Gringotts?"

"Why do you ask?" Ginny leaned forward, curious now.

"It might be helpful in the long run. I'll explain but how often would you say he goes?

"Oh, whenever he wants to make a deposit. We don't make that many withdrawals. House payments and that sort of thing are taken out automatically. So… maybe once a month? Even then, I don't think he actually goes in the vault."

"I wonder… Lily was doing some pretty serious work for the Order, and more specifically for Dumbledore, towards the end of her life. Maybe this has something to do with that."

"Why has it become so urgent all of a sudden, though?" Ginny asked. "You would think, if it's so important, it would have come up before this."

"I can't give you the answers right now," Remus said honestly. "There's nothing left at the original house in Godric's Hollow. The only thing I can think of that might have anything physical of value in solving this mystery is the vault. I know James had a great deal of trust in the loyalty of the goblins, so they kept a lot of the valuables there.."

"I can access the vault at Gringotts by myself," Ginny said, "but I don't feel comfortable doing it without Harry."

"I'll doubt they'll take you on the carts inside the bank while you're pregnant," Remus said, laughing a bit. "They would be very afraid you'll go into labor down there. Goblins aren't the most empathetic creatures."

Ginny giggled. "Well, I wouldn't want to go into labor at the Gringotts bank either."

"I'm confident we're going to get this worked out before that becomes a problem," Remus said honestly. "You've got some of the best minds in Britain working on this."

"I hope so," Ginny said shakily, "because I don't know how much longer I can hold on to my sanity."

* * *

Hermione scanned the letter from Remus, informing her of the recent steps he and Harry had taken to try and work out what was causing Ginny's visions. The end of the letter impressed the urgency the situation had developed.

"So many odd connections," Hermione said out loud, pacing around her library and pulling down a book from the shelf. Flipping through it at random, she sighed in impatience. "We should be able to _do_ more, somehow. It's on the tip of my tongue…."

"Talking to yourself is the first sign of insanity, you know," her husband's voice said from behind her.

"Ron!" Whirling around, she smiled brilliantly at Ron, who crossed the room and embraced her. Exchanging a kiss, Hermione wrapped her arms around him and rested her head on his shoulders. "What are you doing home?"

"I had a bit of a break at work," Ron said, "and I just thought I'd pop home and see how you're doing."

"I was wracking my brain, trying to come up with a solution for Ginny. I hope Harry doesn't put all his trust in Firenze having a solution. He never struck me as being particularly helpful."

"No, he's not," Ron admitted. "He's of the opinion that humans aren't capable of true Divination."

"He's probably right on that score," Hermione said, swaying slightly, enjoying the feeling of being wrapped up in Ron's arms. Ron was always so _warm._ "Remember during fifth year when…"

"What?" Ron pulled back suddenly, watching in amusement as Hermione closed her eyes and moved her lips in a silent dialog with herself.

"Occlumency! Using Leglimens usually requires eye contact, but Harry and Voldemort were able to do it because of their odd connection."

"So, what's the connection between Lily and Ginny, then?" Ron asked. "Lily didn't try and kill Ginny."

"No, but it seems to me that someone's after Ginny, or maybe Ginny _and_ Harry," Hermione said with a sigh. "And it couldn't be at a worse time."

"Do you think that's a coincidence?" Ron asked. "I mean, if I were interested in destroying someone, either physically or mentally, I would attack them while they were in a vulnerable state."

"Being eight months pregnant is about as vulnerable as it gets," Hermione said. "If this person, whomever he or she is, is after Ginny's physical health, then she needs to be guarded all the time."

"Agreed. But she's not going to like it," Ron said with a sheepish grin. "She's going to rip my head right off."

"Maybe it would be best if Harry tried to stay with her as much as possible. There's not much better protection in the world than Harry. When he's not there, one of us should be there. We can be subtle about this."

Ron snorted. "Well, we can try. We are Weasleys, after all."

* * *

Author's Notes: Thanks go once again to Daily Prophet Reporting, my fabulous Phoenix Song beta and also to Kat Morning, my other beta. They both do a fabulous job. 


	6. Chapter 6: A Vision in Love

**, Chapter 6: A Vision in Love**

As Harry approached Hogwarts from the village he felt a surge of nostalgia. The castle and the grounds hadn't changed much since his first year. School was in session, and the chilly fall wind whipped through his overcoat and made his scarf dance. One simply didn't walk up to Hogwarts to visit, Harry had found out. It took a Floo to the Headmistress and the verification of his identity through various spells, but Harry didn't mind. All of the arrangements ahead of time were well worth the students' safety. After all, he hoped he would send his children to Hogwarts someday, and he would like them to be safe.

Once he was finally allowed to open the front door, he was greeted by a smiling Professor McGonagall. "Potter! You're looking quite well since last I saw you!"

"Thanks, Professor," Harry said with a blush, feeling absurdly like he was seventeen again. "How've you been?"

"Oh, rather busy with this and that. Keeping the school running takes most of my time, you know, but during the summers I like to keep up with my research into non-stable Transfiguration. I hear you're a father-to-be," Professor McGonagall commented as she led him down the corridor.

Harry grinned, a reaction that had become very automatic. "Yes, Ginny's due in a few weeks."

"It could be any time then. I expect your wife is anxious to get on with it. The Weasleys never did have much patience as a group."

"She's ready to have the baby," Harry admitted, running a hand through his hair and swallowing before he continued. "There've been some complications, but I'd rather not ask your advice out in the open, if that's all right with you."

McGonagall simply raised an eyebrow. "Of course. You remember where the headmaster's office is?"

"I could never forget it," Harry said with a smile. "I almost destroyed it my fifth year. I don't know why Dumbledore put up with me."

"You did have a considerable temper that year," Professor McGonagall admitted, "although it seems to me that some of that was justified. Objects, material possessions, those can be fixed. Albus was understandably concerned more with his relationship with you."

At the look of incredulity of Harry's face, McGonagall smiled. "Potter, when you've spent most of your life working with hormonal teenagers, as I have, you'll understand more clearly what Albus was feeling. Ah, we're here. The password is 'Felix'."

As the statue made way for them to walk up the stairs, Harry experienced a strange sense of déjà vu. He had spent more time in the headmaster's office than any kid in the history of Hogwarts, or so it seemed to him. Returning here for advice and counsel, where he had done of his learning and felt most at home, somehow just felt right.

"What can I help you with, Potter?" McGonagall asked as she walked over to one of the chairs in the middle of the office and gestured for Harry to take the one opposite.

"What do you know about my mum? I mean, that is to say…" Harry cleared his throat. "She was in your House, and… Oh, bugger. Let me start at the beginning."

"Good idea Potter," McGonagall said, conjuring a teapot from midair. "Would you like a cup while you gather your thoughts?"

Startled, Harry nodded. "Yes, please. Just lemon and sugar, thanks."

Harry let his posture sink, his chest caving in as he rested his elbows on his knee and closed his eyes in concentration, letting his thoughts order themselves in the way he'd trained himself to do during the hunt for the Horcruxes. He had taught Hermione to think on her feet, and she had taught him the value of logic and an orderly mind. He would never be as efficient or organized as she was, but it did help in his study of Defense.

"Here you are then," Professor McGonagall said, passing him the cup. "I'll let you add the sugar to your taste."

"Thanks, Professor," Harry said, drawing in a deep breath and straightening. "It all began a couple of weeks ago. Ginny started having these strange dreams…."

Professor McGonagall listened with the intense concentration of someone used to active listening, pausing Harry to have him go over certain aspects of the story and sometimes asking him questions that required long explanations. At the end of an hour, Professor McGonagall set her teacup down in front of her and took off her glasses with a sigh.

"Divination is not my area of expertise, Potter," she said, rising to her feet and walking to the bookshelf. "In fact, I'm not sure it's a legitimate area of magic. Perhaps it would be better if you consulted Firenze."

"I know, Professor," Harry said firmly, also rising. "I was hoping you could tell me more about my mum. I just… I don't _think_ that she'd ever do anything to hurt Ginny at all, if she could, you know, from beyond the veil…. But then, I didn't think my dad had been a fifteen-year-old prat, either."

Tears sprang to Professor McGonagall's eyes and she coughed briskly, trying to get rid of them before Harry noticed. However, Harry was observant and he handed her his handkerchief, a lump rising in his own throat.

"I'm sorry, Potter. Sometimes it sneaks up on me at the oddest moments. Your parents… both were two of my brightest pupils. To lose them so young was such a tragedy for the wizarding world, and more specifically, for you. Truly, it was a misfortunate that you never got to meet them. Perfect people they were not, as I'm sure some of your former teachers have taken the time to point out to you."

Harry coughed. "That was made abundantly clear to me."

"Ah, yes. Professor Snape, when he was alive and teaching here," Professor McGonagall said. "But your parents, and Lily in particular… that was our original topic of conversation, correct?"

Her tone was so close to the one she had used in class when asking an obvious question that Harry almost laughed. "Yes."

"I suppose you're asking me if Lily would do something like this. It's hard to say whether someone would be capable or would not be capable of any one action. I never did have Albus's particularly astute ability to dissect the personalities and talents of students, but I would suggest that if you were in very imminent danger, your mother would make every effort to warn you. However, since post-mortem communication is often a very hefty task, I would argue that the other possibility you suggested, that someone would send the dreams to Ginny in order to threaten her sanity, is more likely. She did marry you, Potter. There's probably some leftover resentment from a certain sect of society. Normally I would suspect that." Professor McGonagall returned to her chair and tapped her foot for a minute. "There's something about the particular visions, though. Someone would have to have a very intimate connection with Lily in order to produce the clarity of the dreams Ginny has described to you. I am no expert on Occlumency, but I know that much."

"So then, the question becomes, who's after Ginny?"

"I would suggest that you ask that question of Firenze, although since he's not a wizard, he might not have very many concrete ideas about how the dreams are breaking through the veil. But if the spirit of your mother is trying to communicate with you, it would best to figure out why as quickly as you can. I find it is always best to listen closely when those who are in the know advise you of anything."

"Thanks, Professor."

"Oh, and one other thing, Potter. Welcome back to Hogwarts. You're welcome to join us for lunch at the head table, if you're still around."

A grin broke out over Harry's face. "I think I would like that very much."

* * *

Firenze was in the middle of a class when Harry pushed his door open. "Oh, I'm sorry Firenze. I thought that you weren't busy during this time…."

Uncomfortable with the unrelenting stares of the third years Firenze had been instructing, Harry opened the door and moved step to out.

"Harry Potter, please join us." Firenze said, sweeping his arms out over the students. "I'm sure my pupils will have no objections."

"I didn't want to interrupt the class," Harry objected, waving his hand.

"On the contrary, I believe the information presented here would be quite informative for you, as it applies to your current situation. Since you've left, the Headmistress has requested, very reasonably I thought, that we move away from subjects beyond the students' grasp. We study more of the abstract parts of magic. No gazing at tea leaves here."

"What about the stars?" Harry asked, recalling several lessons with Firenze where he'd learned fascinating things.

"Oh, of course we study the stars and the movement of the planets in great detail. If you would take a seat, Harry Potter, I believe today's lesson will be interesting."

Harry sat on the grass of Firenze's classroom next to the other students, who were still gaping at him.

"Class, if I could direct your attention away from our guest," Firenze began, and the class reluctantly focused back on their teacher.

For the next half-hour, Firenze spoke easily of how Mars was returning to prominence, a sign of the return to strife to the wizarding world. Harry clenched his jaw and focused, listening to Firenze talk of an ancient, easily forgotten trouble rising to the head of the battle of good and evil. Around him, the students scratched busily on their parchment, but Harry was focused on what Firenze was saying.

After what seemed to be a short period of time, Firenze dismissed the class. Harry sat for a moment, absorbed in his own thoughts. "Mr. Potter, I did want to take a moment of your time," Firenze said, interrupting his internal reverie.

Harry started. "Yes, Professor?"

"Just Firenze," the centaur said with an ironic smile. "I'm sure you're familiar with that sentiment."

Harry chuckled in spite of himself. "More than you know. Or, I suppose you _do_ know."

"Nonsense. I am not omniscient, Mr. Potter, and personal Divination has never been my strong suit. If you are indeed searching for a connection to the supernatural, coming to me would not be the best choice. I certainly can tell you that dark times are once again around the corner, but I cannot specifically address the situation with your wife, as you mentioned in your letter. I thought perhaps the stars would reveal something to me in time, but my patience interferes with your time limit."

"Yes, Ginny's due very soon. I'd like to have this worked out by then," Harry said, stuffing his hands in his pockets.

"I have a colleague in Britain," Firenze began. At Harry's wince, the centaur stiffened his chest. "Not that ridiculous Trelawney woman. I've known this woman since she was a youngling, and she does like to keep to herself. You can't blame her. Female centaurs do not necessarily make themselves available to the outside world without serious repercussions."

Centaurs were not known for the sociable nature, Harry knew, and as he'd never once come across a female one, he suspected that getting in touch with Firenze's associate might be a little difficult. "How am I suppose to find this… lady?"

"She now resides in the Black Forest, on the magical reserve there. Apparate to the International Point there, and I will make sure someone is there to meet you. I would advise doing this as soon as possible."

"Thanks, Firenze."

Firenze's face grew sad for a moment. "I do have some pull left with certain sects of my people. I am happy to use it for you, Harry."

Blushing, as he often did when anyone referenced his defeat of Voldemort, Harry shrugged his shoulders. "I am grateful, Firenze. Really."

Firenze's face took a serious turn. "I do not want you to underestimate the danger that is coming your way. Voldemort was a serious threat, yes, but this enemy is powerful in his subtlety."

A knock on the door interrupted their conversation and a pale boy with lots of freckles Harry recognized from Firenze's class appeared. "Mr. Potter?"

"Just Harry," Harry said automatically.

"Professor McGonagall wanted you to know that lunch has started."

"Thanks," Harry said with a smile, waiting patiently while the boy was obviously struggling to force something out. "Did you have something you wanted to ask me?"

"Are you staying all day? Because it was really cool to have you in Divination, you know, but it would be even _cooler_ to have you in Defense."

"Well, my wife is pregnant, you know, and I should get back to her, but I suppose it wouldn't be bad to sit in on a Defense class."

The boy grinned and stuck out his hand. "I'm David Brown. Lavender Brown's my aunt. I didn't get to meet her, but everyone says she was a real Gryffindor."

Harry nodded. "The best."

"It's so _cool_ that you're here. Come on, the house-elves made roast beef for lunch, they must've known you were here…."

Grinning, Harry followed David down the hallway, listening to the thirteen-year-old's prattle about food and feasts, and absorbing the Hogwarts atmosphere all around him. Rather than being painful, his homecoming was making him nostalgic and he wondered why he had not returned here before.

* * *

"_Lily. Lily." _

Startled from a deep slumber, Lily Evans sat straight up in bed and looked around for her husband, blinking at the morning light streaming in from the window. "James? Where are you?"

"Right here," James said mischievously, his head appearing from beneath his Invisibility Cloak. "How are you feeling?"

"Tired. Sore. Harry still asleep?" Lily threw her feet over the edge of their bed and headed to the direction of the nursery without waiting for James's answer. When she reached the doorway she entered without hesitation, but James hung back.

"I just checked on him," James said from the door of the nursery, leaning against the jamb, watching as his wife stroked his son's hair gently with a finger. "It's scary how easy a baby he is."

"Seems unnatural, especially considering who his father is," Lily said teasingly, and then she cooed as Harry opened the eyes that had just recently started to change to match the green of her own. "I'm sorry, baby. I didn't mean to wake you up."

A look of concentration crossed Harry's face and James laughed from the doorway. "Someone was going to need a nappie change soon, anyway."

"Yes, someone is," Lily responded, poking James in the chest. "And it's _your_ turn."

James grinned. "All right. You want to go back to sleep, catch a few more hours before I have to head out for the Order again?"

"No," Lily said, crossing to the rocking chair by the window. "I think I'll just sit here and enjoy some time with my two men before you run off again."

Watching with amusement, wonder and love as James gathered all the supplies for the nappie change, Lily let her mind wander and the gentle motion of the rocker lull her into a sort of half-slumber. James finished the nappie change with a quick game of "Patty Cake" with Harry, and Lily pushed the rocker back and forth gently.

"Do you mind if Harry and I join you?" James asked, crossing the room with Harry in his arms.

"Of course not. There's always room for you two wherever I go," Lily said, and James waved his wand to expand the rocker. Scooching over to one side, Lily took the baby from James as he arranged himself to one side of her, laying his arm across her shoulders, and all three Potters rocked gently in the summer night, peaceful and together.

* * *

Ginny woke up with happy tears streaming from her eyes. Glancing over, she saw that the clock in their bedroom told her that she'd slept most of the day away, but she was feeling refreshed and rested for the first time in weeks. Somehow it seemed that Lily knew she was about to crack under the pressure and was granting Ginny a break.

The door to the bedroom creaked open to reveal her husband, looking exhausted and worn from his day of investigation. "Ah, here you are," he said cheerfully, kicking his shoes off and lying down on the bed next to her. Gently, he raised Ginny's shirt up and rested his hand on her rounded belly. "Were you taking a nap?"

"Just woke up," Ginny said, returning the gentle kiss Harry laid on her lips. "I had a dream again."

Instantly, Harry's eyebrows shot up. "What was it about this time?"

"It was peaceful," Ginny said, her eyes tearing up again. "Your dad got home in the morning from doing something with the Order, changed your nappie and they all sort of rocked together on this chair. It was beautiful."

Harry felt an odd pressure in his chest at the image of his parents and him, together. Gently, he kissed Ginny's cheek. "Pretty soon that's going to be us and our baby, yeah?"

Ginny smiled. "Any day now. How did your visit to Hogwarts go?"

"Brilliant. It hasn't changed much. Kids still drive Filch crazy with dungbombs. I got Firenze and McGonagall's opinion on our whole situation." Harry's hand began to rub a soothing circle on Ginny's belly.

"Oh? What did they have to say?"

Harry sighed, stilled the motion of his hand and turned completely over on his back. Carefully, Ginny maneuvered so she was on her side facing him.

"They both seem to think there's something or someone coming after us again. Firenze doesn't think we're in any less danger than we were at the height of Voldemort's power. Molly would probably kill me for telling you, since you're not supposed to get upset, but we both know that you and I do better when we both know exactly what we're dealing with."

"What _are_ we dealing with?" Ginny asked, a bit frustrated. "No one can seem to tell us any more than 'watch out'!"

Harry sighed. "Remus seems to think it has something to do with the research Mum was doing before she died. Maybe it's the same thing that Voldemort was after."

"Oh, did Remus get in touch with you, too?"

"Yeah, he did. He seems to think we need to check the vault in Gringotts. But honestly, Gin, I've been there a few dozen times since I started Hogwarts. Do you think I'd miss something as important as that?"

Ginny began to push the hair off of Harry's forehead with her fingertip and chuckled. "Well, Harry, you do have to admit… we don't exactly know what we're looking for."

Harry groaned. "I know. I suppose it's worth a try. It's just that I'd have to leave you here, and I don't think I want to do that after today."

"I'll be fine by myself. I'm pregnant, not disabled."

Harry raised an eyebrow. "Have I ever said that? I know you're capable of taking care of yourself, Ginny. I just want to be sure I'm here when… you know. If I'm in Gringotts when you go into labor, how are you going to get a hold of me?"

"Hmm. Good point. I want you here too. Can you authorize someone else to go into your vault?" Ginny asked.

"I wonder if Bill would," Harry mused aloud.

"It's worth a shot. Let's Floo him now!" At Harry's look of incredulity, Ginny laughed. "I'm just so excited that we've finally got an idea about what to do to _fix_ this. I'm so tired of sitting around and doing nothing."

"Me too, honestly," Harry muttered, turning his attention to the side of Ginny's neck, kissing it softly. "I just hate having nothing to do…."

"Harry Potter! What are you doing?"

"I'm kissing my wife," Harry said. "Don't interrupt me, it's very important work."

"_Harry_," Ginny protested, caught between love and annoyance, "we need to call Bill."

"They're probably eating."

"At four thirty?" Ginny retorted.

"Does it make any difference if we Floo him now or in the morning, when he's more likely to remember?"

"Oh, hmm, that's lovely Harry, just… ah, I suppose we can Floo him in the morning. Right absent-minded git, Bill. He'd forget if we…"

"Ginny?"

"Yes?"

"Do you mind shutting up so I can kiss you?"

"Not at all."

* * *

Thanks to Kat Morning and Daily Prophet Reporting for their outstanding beta job, as always! Special thanks, love and hugs go to _JenMart01_, of Potterficweekly fame, for the pre-beta and pre-publishing input. 


	7. Chapter 7: A Vision in Peril

**Chapter Seven: A Vision in Peril**

Ginny found herself unsurprised that sex was highly recommended to bring on labor. Surely something had been knocked loose during that highly, well, _satisfying_ interlude last night. All in all, she felt more rested and comfortable than she had in weeks.

Harry was still asleep, arm thrown over his eyes, snoring away in that endearing way that he had. Well, it was only endearing when she was rested, which she was. Feeling restless, Ginny swung her legs out of bed and rose to her feet.

"Mmm. Gin?" Harry mumbled, semiconscious. Harry only called her Gin when he was half-asleep or otherwise incapacitated. It always made her heart flip-flop.

"What?" She asked, sliding her feet into slippers, which were about the only style of footwear that would fit in anymore.

"What time is it?"

"Oh, it's about eight o'clock in the morning," she said flippantly, enjoying Harry's reaction as he sat all the way up in bed.

"We've been asleep that long?" He was astounded and very much awake as he reached for his glasses.

"Yes. I think we exhausted ourselves," Ginny said with a big grin.

"Proud of yourself, are you?" Harry asked, leaning back against the headboard and watching her bustle about the bedroom, selecting clothes.

"Well, it's not exactly as easy as it once was, is it?"

"Only makes the ultimate goal more worthwhile," Harry said, locking his hands behind his head and closing his eyes. "Very worthwhile, if I may say so."

Ginny giggled. "Oh, yes. I agree completely." Her face screwed up for a moment. "Oh. Ouch. Well, that hurt."

"What's wrong?" Harry asked, concerned once more. "Are you…?"

"No. I just think I cramped up a bit," Ginny said, smiling unconcernedly. "Would you Floo Bill please? I want to be sure you catch him before he takes off. Once he's at Gringotts, he's nearly impossible to reach."

"Of course," Harry said, reluctantly pulling himself from under the covers and heading towards the bedroom fireplace. "Oh, and Ginny?"

"Yes?"

"Do you mind if I take off for Germany for a bit today? Firenze has got a colleague there he thinks might be able to help us. I won't be gone for more than a couple of hours."

Ginny rubbed her belly and chewed her bottom lip. "I don't suppose it could hurt anything. I doubt we're having a baby today. These things take time, or so they tell me."

"All right. As long as it's fine with you. I just hate to leave right now," Harry admitted, coming up behind her and rubbing her belly in that gentle way that he had. "No dreams last night?"

"None," Ginny said. "I'm not sure if that's a good or a bad thing. Floo Bill, would you please? I'm going downstairs for breakfast."

"All right. I won't stand between the pregnant lady and her morning eggs and toast."

"Wise man," Ginny said, and took off down the stairs.

Harry positioned himself in front of the Floo and thought momentarily of combing his hair or at least putting on a shirt. Bill was family, though, and he wouldn't be able to see any more than Harry's head, so it would be all right.

There was a moment of silence after Harry said Bill's name before a very agitated-looking Fleur Weasley appeared. "Oui? Who iz eet?"

"It's Harry, Fleur. Do you mind if I speak to Bill for a moment, or did I already miss him?"

"_Non, non_. _Les enfants, ils ont fous ce matin._" At Harry's confused look, Fleur sighed. "I am sorry, 'Arry. Eet 'as been a crazy week. Bill! Bill! Eet is 'Arry!"

"Harry!" Billy's jolly face appeared in the fireplace. "How are you doing? How's my sister holding up? About to pop, yeah?"

"Yeah," Harry said, a bit uncomfortable. "I'm doing fine, and Ginny's doing well, but we were wondering if you'd do us a favor."

"Of course, as long as it's within reason," Bill said. Harry smiled. He'd probably become used to adding the last condition after the twins had come along.

"I need to authorize you to go into the Potter family vault at Gringotts. I haven't got the time to look into it, but Remus thinks it could be important for the investigation. I need you to look and see if there's anything suspicious in there. Remus seems to think Mum was researching something really big when she died, and maybe the information is stored there."

"So something secret, perhaps nondescript?" Bill asked.

"That would be my guess. Just look through everything and see if you notice anything unusual. It shouldn't take you long at all. If you do find something, go ahead and withdraw it from the bank and bring it to me here."

"Are you going to be in Godric's Hollow all day?"

"No, I think I'm going to make a quick run to Germany," Harry admitted. "I don't really want to go, but there's no one else I could delegate this particular task to. Firenze seems to think he has a colleague in the Black Forest that might have an idea about what's up with Ginny's dreams."

Bill nodded, a bit distracted. "Finnegan, you put that down, do you hear me? How many times does Dad have to warn you about picking up wands? You're going to hex your bits off without even realizing it, I'm warning you! …Sorry Harry, a bit of a parenting disaster, but yes, I can certainly do that for you."

"Great, thanks Bill! I'll let you deal with Finnegan."

"Yeah, he's a bit of a… I _said_ put that down!" Bill disappeared briefly for a moment, only to reappear, wand in hand. "I'll talk to you later Harry, all right?"

Harry chuckled. "All right. Later, Bill."

* * *

Apparating from country to country was a bit of work, if you didn't happen to be Harry Potter. Normally one had to get authorization documents and walk through a whole bundle of paperwork to be able to pop in and out of countries as freely as one pleased. Harry Potter had been doing it since he was seventeen, on the hunt for Horcruxes. He was pretty sure the Ministry was aware of his illegal activity, but it chose not to prosecute him. That was fine. He didn't want to fill out the paperwork, anyway.

From his home in Godric's Hollow, he imagined the Apparition checkpoint on the outside of the Black Forest. He'd never been there before, but he'd carefully studied a map and knew precisely where he was going. After a moment, he felt the odd sensation of being pulled away, and he was standing in a patch of grass, feeling very much like an idiot, as there was no one around.

"Harry Potter?" A stern voice sounded from inside the forest. It had a slight German edge on it, but it was easy enough to understand.

"Yes, that's me," Harry responded carefully, his hand on his wand, poised for an attack. Some habits from the war had died hard, and others had yet to expire.

"Firenze told us of your arrival," the voice said, and soundlessly from the trees, a centaur appeared. "I am to take you to meet Rhysmana, much against the traditions of my people. You should stick very close to me if you wish to stay alive. I am the warrior Cylos."

Harry nodded. "I thank you for your help, warrior Cylos."

Cylos seemed to be very sure of himself, turning around right away and heading directly back into the forest, but Harry had learned to mistrust strangers and he followed more cautiously. Cylos made little to no sound when he stepped, which made Harry feel a bit like a clod. They passed beautiful creeks and effortlessly crossed small streams before they came to a separate clearing. Again, there was no one in sight.

"Harry Potter, you are to wait here," Cylos said, "Rhysmana will come to meet you in a short time."

Knowing that centaurs did not shake hands, Harry bowed from the waist as a token of his gratitude and sat in the grass in the clearing and prepared to wait.

He did not have to wait long, however, for the quiet sound of a hoof pawing the ground caught his attention and his head snapped up, his eyes focused on a shy-looking centaur.

"Hello, Harry," the centaur said, stepping forward cautiously. "I am Rhysmana. Firenze spoke of me to you." Her voice was quiet and unassuming and Harry had to listen carefully to catch all of the words. From what Firenze had said earlier, he had imagined a much different sort of character – a rebel against centaur society, perhaps.

"Hello," Harry responded, rising to his feet. "I have heard… a little about you."

Rhysmana chuckled. "At least you're honest. I do wish you hadn't stood. Please, have a seat. We shall both be comfortable for this interview, then."

She sank gracefully all the way to her knees and arranged her body so that she looked very relaxed. When she attained the perfect position, she sighed. "I do enjoy being comfortable. How about you, Harry?"

"Oh, yes. Um, I suppose so…." His voice trailed off, a bit lost for words in this odd situation.

"You wouldn't have much familiarity with comfort, though, would you?" Rhysmana focused all of her attention on him and Harry found the whole idea a bit disconcerting. "Heroes so rarely do that, when it's forced upon them, they find it rather _un_comfortable. A bit of a paradox, but an interesting one at that."

"Oh? Yes. I suppose so." Harry had never been entirely comfortable with the idea of being considered a hero far and wide. People would persist in the idea, however, so he let them and clung to normalcy with a death grip.

"I'm sorry. I've digressed from the subject at hand, and you do have rather important matters at home to return to, don't you? Your wife, Ginny. She is with child, yes?"

"Yes," Harry said simply, staring down at his hands. What an odd way to say it-- "with child", though it sounded nicer than "pregnant" or "knocked up".

Rhysmana studied him for a moment and then sighed. "But you aren't here to talk of your feelings about impending fatherhood. Who could blame you? You hardly know me. You wish to speak of something both more personal and more public than your child's birth."

"Yes. I'd like to know why my wife is so haunted by these dreams… or visions. Whatever you want to call them."

"Oh, I'd say they're visions," Rhysmana said, spreading her hands wide. "She is seeing events that actually occurred."

"How you define them doesn't really mean all that much," Harry admitted. "It's just that if they were sent by my mum, you would think she would be nicer about it. It's a bit like whoever is sending the dreams wrests control of Ginny's unconscious from her and then makes it so she can't get any rest."

Rhysmana reached for one of his hands and studied his palm for a moment.

"I didn't think you did that sort of parlor trick," Harry muttered, and then turned red when Rhysmana glanced sharply at him.

"Palmistry is, of course, an old wives' tale," Rhysmana said. "However, one _can_ tell certain things about a person's past, not their future, from the palm of the hand. The future is much murkier than most would like it to be. I know of very few who can discern its properties accurately."

"I'm more concerned with the present."

"Ah, yes. Many players on this stage," Rhysmana said, running her hand idly through the grass. "Many people concerned with your Ginny Potter. Including the dead. I do think that Ginny is receiving the dreams from Lily Potter's memories, but this is not the benevolent spirit of your mother sending them."

"If they're from mum's memories, then she'd have to be sending them, right? I don't know that she ever had a Pensieve. If she did, no one shared that with me."

"The slow stealing of a soul is a crime indeed," Rhysmana muttered. "Voldemort was never able to fully grasp the concept of a fate worse than death, but there were those among his followers who were intimately familiar with the idea."

"Are you saying someone took mum's soul?"

"Someone tried. Your mother is dead, and she was a very strong woman. So strong, in fact, that she is able to influence, from time to time, the dreams that your wife receives. She cannot stop the transfer, but she can make the experience more pleasant for Ginny. She is doing the best that she can."

Harry let out a moan of frustration. "I can't believe this. I'm more confused now than I was when I came here."

"Your mother is doing her part," Rhysmana said a bit forcefully. "There are few souls who are able to touch the physical world once they have passed beyond the veil, but with the help of your father, she is doing the best that she can to save your wife and your baby. You have an enemy after you, Harry, and it's quite serious."

Harry let out a harsh laugh. "I've always had an enemy after me. You're not helping. I need names, specifics."

"Harry, I can't give you those. I can only discern vague things about the present. Your wife is in danger. Your child is in danger. You are in danger, and you need to be home. _Right now._"

* * *

Ginny had wandered into the nursery. She settled into the rocking chair, much like the one that had been in Harry's nursery. The gentle rocking motion soothed her to sleep.

* * *

"Voldemort is going to come after you," Dumbledore said, leaning forward across the table, largely ignoring his cup of tea. "He's heard of the prophecy and he will be able to narrow it down to you and the Longbottoms."

James squeezed Lily's hand. "We've been in danger since we've joined the Order. He knows that we've been actively opposing him."

"Yes, but now he's got a personal vendetta. Before you were a minor annoyance. Now you're a threat. He's not just after you two, he's after Harry."

Lily felt her heart stop and then start again. "Harry's just a baby. He can't be a threat to anyone."

"Logic only is one of Voldemort's strengths when it suits him," Dumbledore said seriously. "I do have an idea."

James breathed out a sigh. "I'm glad one of us can think."

"It's called the _Fidelius_ Charm. I can see by your expression that you have heard of it, Lily."

"Of course," Lily said, twisting her wedding ring around her finger. "We'd hide somewhere. There would be only one person in the world who would know where we are."

"Only one… in the world?" James looked flabbergasted.

Lily nodded. "Our Secret-Keeper. The only way to find out where we are would be to torture it out of them. Or get them to tell you voluntarily. We'd have to pick someone completely trustworthy."

"And strong," James added ruefully. "Even then… if the Death Eaters figure out who it is…"

Lily nodded, cutting James off. She didn't want to speculate on the possibilities. "I just don't know if we can ask someone…."

"For Harry," Dumbledore insisted. "I know it's a terrible thing to ask someone."

James sighed and, in a burst of fury, hit his fist on the table and rose to his feet. "This is a _horrible_ thing to ask someone. And who do we choose? Neither one of us has brothers or sisters that we'd trust with our lives."

"Or parents," Lily interjected, also rising to her feet. "My friends are starting families of their own."

"I would be willing to be your Secret-Keeper. I have always felt very close to both of you, and your son is already a delight in my life."

James shook his head. "You've already got too much responsibility, what with running the Order and Hogwarts. We couldn't possibly ask any more of you."

"Sirius is Harry's godfather," Lily said suddenly, and glanced at James, desperation in her eyes. "He already would do anything for him. I would hate to ask him, but he's the closest thing we've got to a living relative, James."

James nodded slowly. "We'll have to talk it over some more, Albus. We can't possibly make a decision like this tonight."

"You might have to. Voldemort's followers are already hot on the trail of this prophecy. My spies have made me aware that you have very little time," Dumbledore said, also rising to his feet. "James, Lily, I can not stress to you enough the dire nature of this situation. I urge swiftness."

"Of course, Professor," Lily muttered.

* * *

Ginny woke up, her heart pounding in her chest. Someone was after her baby! No, no. She wasn't Lily Potter. This was a different time, a different place, and she was a different person. She'd never been besieged by one of those visions in the middle of the day like that.

"Ginny? Ginny?" Hermione's worried voice pierced the fog in her mind.

"I'm here! In the nursery!"

Hermione stopped in the doorway and looked around. "Oh, Ginny. This is just sweet. I know I say that every time, but it really is."

Snowy owls and snitches floated around the room, and in the crib sat a stuffed dragon, courtesy of Charlie and his girlfriend, Maryann.

"Oh, thanks," Ginny said, deciding that she wouldn't get up since she was enjoying the rocking chair so much. "I'm sorry I didn't hear you. Were you calling for me long?"

"A couple of minutes," Hermione said honestly. "I assumed you were taking a nap. I was about to give up."

"I was… having a dream."

"Ah," Hermione said, crossing the room and sitting on the floor next to Ginny. "Was it a bad one?"

"Scary," Ginny said. "I had some back pain this morning, but Harry and I finally had a good night's rest. I was grateful for the respite, but I knew it wouldn't last very long."

"Where's Harry, by the way?"

"He's in Germany. Firenze had a colleague he thought might be of some use to us, so Harry left this morning." Ginny winced as another pain shot through her.

"Are you all right?" Hermione asked concernedly. "You look like you're in serious pain."

"I think I've started having some contractions," Ginny managed. "But they're not often. I think I can wait…."

From the kitchen came the sound of breaking glass. Hermione grabbed Ginny's arm and pulled her up. "Come on. I don't like the sound of that. Let's use your bedroom Floo and get out of here."

As they struggled toward the bedroom, Hermione could hear pounding footsteps racing up the stairs. "Ginny, go on! I'll be right behind you!"

With the focus of a woman in labor, Ginny waddled as fast as she could through the bedroom door, threw some Floo powder on the fire, yelled "The Burrow!" and was gone.

* * *

Author's Note: Yes, that's where I'm ending it. I am tired and the action only gets better from here. I'll see you all next week! Same Chi time, same Chi channel.

A few more things to point out, though. _Chloe_, in Caitlyn's _Lessons for Life_, was the first Potter to have a stuffed dragon. You can find it at the Sugarquill on the Professor's Shelf.

And yes, I do know the Monty Python reference for "peril". Makes me giggle every time.


	8. Chapter 8: A Vision In Discovery

**Chapter 8: A Vision in Discovery**

Harry had never Apparated so fast in his entire life. His meeting with Rhysmana had filled him with a deep sense of urgency, so much so that when he reached the unwarded point at the end of his drive, he ran full-out to his door. Bursting through it, he shouted. "Ginny! Ginny!"

The sound of a lamp hitting the floor and a shouted curse word propelled him up the stairs to the nursery, where he pushed the door open, wand brandished, just as Hermione shouted, "_Pertrificus Totalus!" _

The man, whoever he was, neatly dodged Hermione's spell, and in retaliation, threw a spell of his own, a particularly nasty Boiling Hex. Hermione ducked and rolled, a move Harry had seen her use when fighting Death Eaters in the war. Raising his wand, Harry prepared to launch his own stunning spell when Hermione shouted the same spell from her position on the floor, stunning the man immediately.

Harry stepped inside the room and quietly cast a spell that enveloped the man in ropes. "Hermione, are you okay?"

Panting, Hermione looked up at Harry and pushed a heavy piece of hair out of her face. "I'm fine. I'm just a little out of practice, that's all. I've fought meaner Death Eaters than him before. Honestly, his attack was so lacking in subtlety that it just caught me off guard. I'm used to more finesse."

"Where's Ginny?"

"She used the Floo to go to the Burrow," Hermione said. "She thinks she's in labor."

Harry felt himself go a bit faint. "She's… what?"

Hermione smiled indulgently, crossing to Harry and laying a gentle hand on his shoulder. "She's having a baby, Harry. She's been pregnant for nine months. You knew this was coming."

"No wonder Rhysmana wanted me to come back right away," Harry mumbled. "Thank you, Hermione. For taking care of… this bloke."

"Not a problem. Pretty much literally. Breaking into Harry Potter's house takes a certain lack of intelligence. His idiocy was to my advantage."

"How'd he get in?" Harry asked, torn between wanting to help Hermione with the intruder and wanting to rush to Ginny.

"Broke a window in the kitchen," Hermione said, and tossed some Floo powder on the fire. "Ronald Weasley's office, please."

"What?" Harry was dumbfounded. "That means he had to get around the outer wards. You'd have to be…"

"Much smarter than this bloke," Hermione finished, and tapped her foot impatiently. "Come on, Ron…."

Archibald Grindlock appeared in the fire. Apparently, it was his turn to play secretary. "Oh, hello, Mrs. Weasley. Mr. Weasley's not in right now. He's out to lunch, er… getting paperwork done, oh… bollocks. I'm not supposed to tell anyone he's here. He's working on something really important, I guess."

"I'm the exception to that rule," Hermione said firmly. "Would you tell him that I was attacked and I'd very much appreciate it if he'd come take this man into custody?"

Archibald gulped. "You were attacked? Are you all right, Mrs. Weasley?"

"I did survive a war, you know," Hermione said patiently. "I'm completely fine. I'd just prefer he'd take my statement and do his job so I can go pick up Andrew before Molly has a fit."

A moment later, Ron's face appeared in the fire. "Hermione, I'm on my way with a few officers. Are you okay?"

"Yes. He snagged my arm with a little bit of a Cutting Hex, but the bleeding stopped on its own, so there's nothing to worry about."

"I'm on my way," Ron said, and a second and cloud of smoke later, he was standing in the room. A glance in the corner to the stunned intruder made the corner of his mouth lift up. "Is that the idiot? Are you sure he survived you, Hermione? Ropes _and_ stunning?"

"I stunned him, Harry did the ropes thing. Ginny thinks she's in labor. Do you need Harry here?"

Ron blinked. "No, no. Go on, Harry. I'll get your statement later."

"Thanks, Ron. Will you let me know when you know who this person is – " Harry gestured, "—and if he's working for someone?"

"Yeah, of course. Get going, Harry."

With that, Harry stepped into the fire and shouted, "The Burrow!"

* * *

Flooing when you're pregnant isn't the most pleasant experience, Ginny thought as she landed in the fireplace of the Burrow, clutching her belly. The labor pains were still dull, and she knew she was a long way from actually having the baby. Her house was under attack, her husband was in Germany, and she didn't have the bag that she'd packed in case something went wrong and she had to be hauled to St. Mungo's. As it was, her midwife would have to be notified that she wasn't at the house in Ottery St. Catchpole, but that she was at her mother's. Still, it wouldn't be too large of an inconvenience. If Hermione had managed to fend off the attacker, she would be showing up any moment, Ginny reasoned. Perhaps then she could send her to get the bag.

Ginny concentrated fully from that point on finding her mother and finding a place where she could get comfortable, and so she headed to the first spot she could think of where she would be likely find her mother, the kitchen.

There was no Molly Weasley to be found, but there, pouring a glass of milk with a look of supreme concentration, was Ron and Hermione's first and only child, Andrew.

"Andy!"

Andy looked up, an expression of guilt on his face, which swiftly changed to a very charming smile. "I get milk!"

"Are you supposed to do that all by yourself?" Ginny asked patiently, noting the large puddle at Andrew's feet.

"Nuh-uh."

"Well, why don't you help Aunt Ginny out, and she'll clean that up magically for you, okay?"

"Okay!"

"Where's grandmum?"

Andrew closed his eyes and bit his lip in a way that would have reminded Ginny very much of Hermione, if she had been able to think about things like what Hermione looked like. "Grandmum's throwing gnomes."

"In the garden?"

Andrew smiled and nodded enthusiastically, his red hair sliding forward to cover his face. "Don't tell?"

Ginny shook her head and chuckled, even though she could feel the beginnings of another contraction hitting her. With a wave of her wand, she cast a quick cleaning charm, which made the boy giggle hysterically.

Ginny pushed open the door to the backyard and stepped out, covering her eyes with her hand before she shouted. "Mum!"

"Yes, dear?" Mrs. Weasley asked, popping her head up from where she'd been carefully weeding a geranium.

"Mum, our house has been attacked, Hermione's still there, Harry's in Germany and I think I'm going to have the baby soon. Can I stay here?"

Mrs. Weasley blinked, but as a woman with seven children, most of whom had survived the war, she was used to grand catastrophes. With a quick nod, she rose to her feet and wiped her hands off on her pants. "Let's Floo the midwife," she said briskly, walking into the house, completely in charge, "since you've probably not had a chance to do that yet."

"No. I came here immediately."

Molly nodded. "Good. Harry will be here soon. He's got a knack for showing up at the right time. We can set you up in our bedroom, of course. That would be the most comfortable for you. The last thing you're going to want to do in a few hours is have to deal with stairs."

"I wonder if Hermione…" Ginny wandered over to the fireplace and rested her hand on the mantle.

Molly shook her head. "I'll do the worrying about everyone in the world, Ginny dear. I'm much better at it than you. I've had more practice. You go ahead and focus on your labor and your baby. If you want to take a bit of a walk around the yard when I'm done here, sometimes that helps a bit with labor. I don't think you're that far dilated yet. We have time."

Figuring that if anyone knew pregnancy and labor, it would be her mother, Ginny began to walk a circle around the inside of the Burrow, waiting for the tell-tale sound of Harry's feet hitting the inside of the fireplace. She hadn't been waiting long, but she felt like both she and the baby were waiting for daddy to show up to get the show started.

"Mummy's ready to see you," Ginny muttered, rubbing her belly in that old, familiar circle. "Pretty soon she'll get to pick you up and change your nappies and feed you. It's about time for you to come meet the world."

There was a crash and then a very loud swear word, and Ginny's face broke into a grin. "There's Daddy, baby. It's almost show time."

Molly jumped back and yelped as Harry landed in the fireplace just as she was attempting to throw some powder on it.

"Where is she?" Harry asked, a bit breathlessly. "Is she okay?"

Smiling at the concern on Harry's face – wasn't that just adorable – Molly waved her hand. "She's fine. She's pacing around the living room, I think. I was about to Floo the midwife."

Harry looked blank for a moment. "Oh yes. The midwife. Brilliant idea, Mrs. Weasley."

Patting his cheek, Molly gestured. "You'd better go say hi to your wife, Harry, before she comes in here and casts one of her infamous hexes on you."

Smiling sheepishly, Harry made his way towards the living room, but he was met halfway by Ginny, who was flushed with excitement and worry. "Harry! You came back earlier than I expected!"

"Rhysmana was finished with me more quickly than either of us had anticipated, I think," Harry admitted.

"How's Hermione?"

"She's fine," Harry said, shrugging his shoulders. "I don't think she really needed me there, to be quite honest with you. I got there just in time to tie whoever it was up and stand around while Hermione Floo'd Ron so he could come pick him up."

"Good," Ginny said smugly and then gasped. "I think we're having a baby, Harry."

Harry grinned, his eyes twinkling behind his glasses. "I think we've known that for a while, Ginny."

Ginny's eyes narrowed. "Now's not the time to exercise your sense of humor, Potter."

"Right. Shutting up now."

"The midwife's on her way, dear. Hermione just Floo'd me. She's going to come by and pick up Andrew so he doesn't get underfoot just as soon as she can get away from the Ministry. Something about having to give their statements. How are you feeling? "

"Oh, I'm fine," Ginny said. "The contractions aren't too bad right now. I can take them standing up."

Molly nodded knowingly. "Good. I would advise staying standing just as long as you can. Harry, do you want to take her for a walk around the garden?"

"She can walk? I mean, shouldn't she be lying down or something?"

Molly raised an eyebrow at Ginny, who shrugged. "He reads, Mum. I promise. His brain's just a bit foggy right now. Happens whenever I'm in trouble."

Harry's mouth opened and closed, searching for something appropriate to say and coming up short. "I… am completely speechless."

"Good. Keep him that way dear," said a familiar acerbic voice.

"Sarah!" Ginny's face lit up. "I'm so glad you got here!"

"I wouldn't miss this for the world. Your Harry wouldn't pay me if I didn't show up for the delivery, I don't think," Sarah said, half-seriously. "Something about being the midwife…"

Ginny grinned, and then abruptly hissed. "Oh no. Here comes another one."

"Breathe through it," Sarah said patiently. "I thought Molly sent you outside for a walk, Harry."

"Well, she did, but then you showed up and I…"

"Take your wife for a walk. Molly and I will get the bedroom set up for delivery. It certainly won't be the first time you've had to do this, eh, Molly?"

Laughing, the two older women abandoned Harry and Ginny. Harry took it in stride, and clasped Ginny's hand in his. "All right. I guess we're going for a walk around the yard."

"All right," Ginny agreed, and hand-in-hand, they strolled out the back door.

* * *

Bill Weasley had never seen the inside of Harry Potter's vault, and he found himself curious. He knew that Harry's parents had left him a good amount of wealth, and that Sirius Black and left him even more. _The Daily Prophet_ always hinted that Harry was very well off, but money never overly concerned the Weasleys and they had never thought to question Harry about the state of his finances. He certainly didn't _live_ like a rich man, Bill thought. He had a modest house in a modest town. Ginny and Harry certainly wore nice clothes, but they didn't stroll around in designer robes.

When the door melted away, revealing piles of Galleons and stacks of books and other valuables, Bill nearly groaned. Harry probably hadn't realized the monumental task he'd laid before him, but then Bill had always enjoyed a challenge. This, at least, was something different than endlessly researching the ancient curses of the Egyptians or testing complex warding charms.

Within minutes, he found himself in the same state of mind he'd often been in at Hogwarts, fascinated by the amount of history in the tiny room. Harry had stored collectibles from the Black family fortune and the Potter family heirlooms side-by-side. There were trunks of memorabilia from both wars – Harry had never had time to collect that sort of stuff in the second war, so that must be Ginny's doing – the research on the Horcruxes they had done during the year they'd searched for Voldemort, Harry's collection of interesting Defense Against the Dark Arts items he hadn't wanted at the house around the baby, and of course, stacks and stacks of Galleons.

The first hour of searching yielded little of significance, just some notes between James and Sirius and a few letters from her parents Lily had kept. He also found Harry and Ginny's wedding robes stacked neatly in a trunk with Harry's parents' wedding things. Carefully laying aside the robes, he searched the trunk for a false bottom, but came up short.

As he was restacking the robes into the chest, he noticed a wooden, magic lockbox lying almost carelessly on the floor. Such things often contained protection charms, so he cast a detection spell before proceeding any closer. James Potter had been a clever wizard indeed, most adept at keeping secrets, and it took Bill a good half hour to crack the complex code to get into the box. By the time he'd done so, his hands were shaking and his face shone with the glow of discovery. Whatever was kept in the box was a big secret for any wizard to have gone through so much trouble to protect it.

There was a layer of cloth, and then underneath, stacks and stacks of aging parchment, bound together in leather folders and tied up with string. Pulling a knife from his back pocket, he snapped open the binding on one of them and sank to the floor of the vault to read the clear feminine writing. .

_Notes for the Order of the Phoenix. 1979, Lily Potter_

_Today I got in touch with Professor Slughorn regarding the properties of dittany, which he can hopefully obtain for me, as it is currently out of season. However, if anyone can get it for me, it would be Professor Slughorn. The effectiveness of the potion with the additional ingredient is still purely theoretical and would still only be partially effective. The most difficult thing about the project is my forced silence. Shortly, I will have to cease working with certain ingredients in order to protect my baby from adverse effects. I have hopes that I will have completed my mission by then. _

Bill put the bound folder down and reached for another, and then another, mostly filled with cryptic lab notes and incomprehensible gibberish. He was about to give up on finding anything else useful in the box when he came across a second parchment.

**Notes for the Order of the Phoenix. 1979, James Potter**

**Lily has been unable to continue the research she originally began, but I am continuing it under her strict instructions. The effect of adding the dittany was not as immediate as we had hoped and the potion continues to range from completely ineffective to having some marginal success, in that the injected rats live a fraction of a second longer after the curse hits them than they did without. The impossible mission continues to be impossible.**

_The injected rats live a fraction of a second longer after the curse…_ Bill swallowed. Were the Potters working on an antidote to the Killing Curse? An ingestible antidote? He tapped his thigh. Such a thing had never been attempted before, and the brewing and inventions of new potions was generally left to Masters of the art, but the reports of Lily and James's intelligence were glowing. Even Severus Snape had admitted to Harry once that his father and mother had been accomplished wizards – Bill had overheard him. But would the Order have trusted them with something so important?

On the other hand, they were accomplished enough wizards that Voldemort had recognized their names and knew that they had given birth to a child – he had needed to, in order to complete the prophecy.

Suddenly feeling as though the parchment in his hand had caught fire, Bill quickly snapped the folders shut and rose to his feet. Harry needed to know just why someone might be after his family… the Potters had come very close to finding an antidote to the Killing Curse. Very close indeed.

* * *

Author's Note: Sorry for the delay on this one. My personal life has been out of control lately. Real life comes before fanfiction, and then beta'ees come before writing my own stuff. I appreciate all the lovely reviews you've been sending me, and I hope you continue to read. Hopefully I've gotten over the difficult hump in this story and everything from here on out will be smooth sailing.

What you're reading now would not be half as pleasant it is without the valiant efforts of Daily Prophet Reporting and Kat Morning. Thanks for all the work you guys do!


	9. Chapter 9: A Vision in Birth

Warning: If you're diabetic, take your insulin before reading this chapter.**  
**

**Chapter Nine: A Vision in Birth  
**

Bill was out the door of Gringotts and on his way to a safe Apparition point when the owl found him. Hooting impatiently, it swooped down and landed, not very gently, on his shoulder, shoving a piece of parchment at his hand.

"All right, all right, you dumb bird. What's so important?" Bill reached in his pocket and grabbed the necessary tip, and the owl flew off. The hastily scrawled words from Harry made him smile and then frown. _Ginny's in labor, the baby'll be here soon. Come to the Burrow with information, as the house at Ottery St. Catchpole isn't safe at the moment. Harry. _

Running the rest of the distance, Bill quickly Disapparated to the front door of the Burrow and knocked quickly on the front door before stepping through. "Hello! Anybody around?"

Molly came running. "Oh there you are, dear! You got Harry's message, then? Yes, of course. Good, good. I'll run up to the bedroom and let Harry know you're here."

"I don't want him to miss anything. I can wait," Bill objected.

"I don't think the baby will be coming anytime soon, dear…"

"HARRY POTTER! I AM GOING TO _KILL_ YOU! I AM GOING TO WRAP YOUR INTESTINES AROUND YOUR NECK! I AM GOING TO PULL YOUR LIP SO FAR OVER YOUR HEAD IT WILL TOUCH YOUR ARSE!"

Bill choked on his laughter as he heard Harry desperately try to calm Ginny down, and then the cheerful tones of his mother informing Harry that Bill was here with some information.

Harry rushed down the stairs, sweat soaking his shirt, smiling brilliantly at Bill. "Bill! Glad you're here, mate!"

Bill snorted. "Of course you are. I think I've got what you need right here, Harry. No sign that anyone's tampered with your vault of late, but there's plenty of interesting stuff there."

Harry raised his eyebrows. "I haven't really been in there since they transferred all the stuff from the Black family vault."

"There's a big trunk of your parents' things in there," Bill said casually. "Lots of important papers from the first war. Including what your mom was working on before she died."

"Papers from the first war? I didn't know any of the Order's original missions had been documented," Harry said, a little bit shocked. "What was she working on?"

"Apparently she and your dad were working on an oral antidote to the Avada Kedavra curse. They came damned close to figuring it out, too. Your mum was simply brilliant. I mean her research was…"

"An _oral_ antidote?" Harry's mouth dropped open. "Do you think they gave some to me, when…?"

Bill shook his head emphatically. "The last few tries proved fatal for the test subjects. Fortunately, they hadn't graduated to testing on human subjects. Their work was what captured the attention of Voldemort the first time."

Ginny screamed. "HARRY!"

Starting, Harry turned towards the stairs. "I'm sorry, Bill. I'm going to…"

"Go, Harry," Bill said, clasping Harry's shoulder. "Ginny needs you right now."

* * *

The pain of labor had been described to Ginny before, but despite all the details, she'd never felt anything like this before. She keenly missed Harry's presence from the room, and was relieved when he came back to grasp her hand.

"The contractions are coming faster," Sarah, the midwife, said, "and they're going to be more painful since we're in the final stages. Soon enough you'll be a father, Harry."

"And I'm going to be a mum," Ginny whispered, so exhausted that she felt she was floating between contractions. She felt Harry press a kiss to a forehead before the next contraction hit, the pain whipping through her so quickly she felt herself gasp and then moan, closing her eyes against the pain.

"You're doing great, Gin," Harry said encouragingly. "Push harder."

"You can do it!" Sarah said enthusiastically. "Push, Ginevra!"

Ginny tried to arch her back off the bed in effort, concentrating until there was only the bed, Harry's hand, and her baby in the world. Eventually, the pain ended and she sank back to the bed.

"Relax while you can," Sarah said soothingly. "You aren't going to be getting many breaks between…"

"Ahhhhhhh," Ginny moaned, tears streaming from her eyes. "I'm pushing, I'm pushing, I'm pushing!"

"You're doing well! Come on, Ginny, I can almost see the head!" Sarah's voice was a focal point as Ginny pushed, and pushed, and pushed….

"Here he comes!" Molly shouted.

Harry pressed a kiss to her forehead as Ginny gave one last gargantuan effort, groaning from the very pit of her stomach as she pushed the head of the baby out her passage.

"Wonderful, wonderful," Sarah muttered. "Rest until the next one, dear. Just one more big push, one more."

Ginny bore down on the next contraction, gritting her teeth and squeezing Harry's hand with all of her might. She felt the coolness of a pair of hands against her skin, and then a cry pierced the air.

She sobbed in immediate reaction, overwhelmed with relief and joy.

"Congratulations, Ginny, Harry. You have a beautiful little boy," Sarah announced, and Ginny felt the press of Harry's lips on hers.

"Here you go, Ginny dear," Molly said softly, laying Ginny's daughter on her chest for the first time. Ginny was unable to stop the tears streaming down her cheeks.

"Do you have a name picked out for this child?" Sarah asked, brandishing a quill.

Ginny looked up at Harry and smiled.

"Yes, we do," Harry said, stroking his son's cheek gently. "James Sirius Potter."

* * *

A shout went up in the kitchen of the Burrow, where the entire Weasley clan had gathered as Harry traveled down the stairs. He stopped for a moment, shocked to see everyone. Bill had retrieved Fleur and their children, Fred and George had brought Katie and Luna, Charlie had arrived with Cho, and Ron and Hermione had brought Andrew, who was sitting on his grandfather's lap having a story read.

"Well, what's the news Harry?" Fred asked, shouting over the noise.

"It's a boy!" he called, tears welling up in his eyes.

"What's his name?" George asked.

"James Sirius," Harry responded as Ron charged through the crowd and caught him in a one-armed hug.

"Congratulations, Harry!" Ron shouted, and raised a goblet. "To James Sirius!"

The rest of the Weasley family rose to their feet and raised their goblets. "To James Sirius!"

Harry swallowed past the lump of emotion rising in his throat. "Thanks, Ron."

"No problem mate," Ron said, squeezing Harry's shoulder. "How's Ginny?"

"She's doing well… she fed James and then she sort of fell asleep," Harry said, rubbing a hand through his hair. "Molly's up there holding the baby, so she sent me down here to let everyone know the news."

"How's he look?" Bill asked, rubbing Fleur's neck slowly. "Does he have the Weasley red hair?"

Harry shook his head. "He's got a full head of the Potter black. Hopefully it styles more like his mum's."

"No kidding!" George shouted. "Cigars, men?"

Harry grinned and shook his head at the troupe of Weasley men heading outdoors at that announcement. Hermione laid a hand on his shoulder. "Not going outside to smoke?"

"No, I don't think so. I think I'm going to go back upstairs and have another look, actually," Harry said, blushing a bit.

Hermione smiled. "I knew you were going to be a good dad, Harry. You're off to a great start. Love's really the only thing you need."

Harry shrugged. "I certainly hope so." He shuffled a bit on his feet. "Hermione, I… That is, do you want to go up and see the baby with me?"

Hermione's eyes widened. "I'd love to, Harry!"

As they trudged up the stairs, Harry stopped her outside the door. "Thanks, Hermione."

"For what?"

"The Weasleys, they took us both in, didn't they?" At Hermione's nod, Harry pressed forward. "I just – I always felt like you were my sister, you know? I want you to know that."

Hermione enveloped him in a hug. "I feel the same way, Harry. Why don't you go up and introduce me to your son?"

"I'd love to."

* * *

_The Daily Prophet_ released a special edition of the paper, much against the wishes of the Potter family, with a headline that boldly read, "The Boy Who Lived Now A Father". Owls full of well wishes flooded the Potter family home, which, thanks to the concerted efforts of Ron and Bill, were thoroughly scanned for hexes and jinks before being passed back on to Harry and Ginny.

"I don't know what to do with all these," Ginny said, looking at the stack of letters. "We certainly can't read them _all_."

"Neville sent some seeds," Harry said, pulling out a piece of parchment and a small bag and displaying them for Ginny. "He said they're supposed to bring luck, or something."

"Or something," Ginny muttered, and marked that down on the sheet of parchment they were using to track who had sent them what.

"Kingsley didn't send anything but his well wishes," Harry noted.

"That's a relief," Ginny said, and dutifully wrote that down. "I think we should hold off on writing the thank-you notes until James is old enough to help."

"That gives me five years to find an excuse to be somewhere else, doesn't it?" Harry asked, wiggling his eyebrows.

"Don't be ridiculous. We can't both sod off our responsibility, and I've suddenly had something pressing come up in five years."

"Yeah, yeah, yeah," Harry teased and stuck his tongue out. At that moment, James' cry pierced the air.

Immediately, they both jumped to their feet. "Guess naptime's over, then," Ginny said as they climbed the stairs to Ron's old room, which they were using as a nursery while they stayed at the Burrow.

When they reached the nursery, they found Molly already there, fussing over the baby. "I think someone wants a bit of a snack," she said when she turned around to look at Harry and Ginny.

"Hello love," Ginny said in a low voice as she bent over to pick up James. "How's my baby doing today?"

Harry leaned against the doorjamb and watched with a short of fascination as Ginny interacted with their son, who, over the past few days had grown to look less and less like an alien and more and more like an actual human being – which was a good thing, because initially, he'd been a bit worried.

James's face pinched, and he let out an angry wail.

"Oh, someone's hungry," Molly announced and took a step away from the crib. "I'll let you feed him, dear."

"Thanks, Mum," Ginny said, and picked James up competently before walking over to the rocker.

Molly patted Harry's shoulder as she left the room. "All right there, Harry?"

"Never better," Harry answered, though his eyes stayed fixed on Ginny.

She opened her shirt and began to feed his son. Ginny had initially been a bit shy about doing so in front of Harry, but the sight of her and his child was nearly intoxicating to him. To a boy, now a man, who had never had any family in his life, the feeling of completeness was almost overwhelming.

"I think the visions will stop," Ginny said, stroking James cheek gently while he nursed.

"Hmm?"

"The visions. I haven't had one since I've given birth to James," Ginny said. "Do you suppose they've stopped completely?"

"The centaurs thought the visions might have been linked to the pregnancy," Harry said with a shrug of his shoulders. "Maybe we really don't have much to worry about, then."

"I really hope that's the case."

* * *

"The Potters survived the attack intact, sir," said a nervous-looking man, who had once held great power in his hands. "We believe they might be in hiding at the Burrow. And the wards the Ministry is insisting on at the Potter house are much stronger than the ones they had previously."

"Ah, they do seem determined to protect their war hero, don't they?" A very thin man stepped out of the shadow. "We'll have to increase our efforts, then."

"With respect, sir… what's the point in going after the Potters? The Weasleys would be much easier to get to, if you want to make a grandiose statement."

"Weasley didn't watch my son die. Potter could have saved him, but he didn't. I want nothing more than to see Potter endure the same things I did."

"What do you want to us to do now? It'll be more difficult to access Potter's wife, now that she's not pregnant. Women are more open to that kind of magic when their defenses are down."

"She's still nursing. Up the power on the spell. Do what you have to do. Once we break her mind, then we go after the child."

"Yes, sir."

"No more failure, Fudge. I won't tolerate it."

Cornelius reeled as though he'd been punched, and ran down the corridor away from the madman he'd come to serve.

* * *

"James," Lily stood at the doorway of the nursery and looked in at her husband. "You really should stop staring at the baby and come to bed."

James raised his head, a bit startled at the intrusion into what had obviously been a personal reverie. "I'll be there in a bit."

"He's going to be there in the morning, you know," Lily teased.

James turned to look straight at her, and his true smile took over his face. It wasn't his mischievous grin… it was the smile that took time to develop, the one that wasn't complete until it reached his eyes. "I know. That's the beauty of it, you know?"

Baby Harry opened his mouth and gave a tiny yawn before going back to sleep. Lily couldn't stop herself, she was drawn into the room.

"Sometimes I forget that what we're doing means something," James said in a low voice, snaking his arm around Lily's waist. "Then I come in here and I look at Harry. We're going to fix this whole bloody mixed-up world for him, aren't we, Lils?"

"That seems a bit grandiose, love," Lily teased, unwilling to be serious.

"Well, no one ever said I was the least bit sensible. I don't believe in doing anything halfway," James said, leaning over to kiss Lily's cheek.

"I know," Lily responded, drawing him in for a real kiss. "If anyone can 'fix the world', it's you, James Potter."

"Well, I've got plans on a much bigger scale tonight, my love," James said, and drew Lily to the bedroom.

"Ah," Lily muttered, a slight blush on her cheeks. "This is where your habit of not doing anything halfway comes in handy, my love."

"I knew you only kept me around for the snogging."

"Damn straight," Lily shot back.

"Well then," James said, and there was no talking from that point on.

* * *

Ginny woke with a start, and blinked rapidly. The visions were supposed to end when the pregnancy did. Surely this was just a dream.

* * *

Author's Note: If you can't tell, we are now barreling down the road to completion. Thanks go out to Kat Morning and Daily Prophet Reporting for the outstanding betas. 


	10. Chapter 10: A Vision in Circles

**Chapter Ten: A Vision in Circles**

_Lily walked down the path, fall leaves crunching under her boots while the wind blew her old Gryffindor scarf around her neck. The distinctive scent of autumn was on the air and she drew in a deep breath, inhaling the delicious crispness, enjoying the nipping wind. _

_Her two boys were running ahead of her, Harry and James both trying to catch leaves. James wore the goofy cap Remus had purchased for him last Christmas, probably at a second-hand store. It was made of multiple shades of yarn, and sported ridiculous ear caps, but James adored the thing. Lily had only smiled when she pulled on her own simple black beret. Harry was decked out in Gryffindor red for the outing_ – _a red knit sweater with jeans and his favorite red shoes, even a red beanie with a knot on top._

_A surprised shout drew Lily's attention. James swung Harry up in his arms and was tossing him in the air, while Harry tried to catch the leaves falling around him._

"_Up!"_ _Harry shouted, one of his favorite words, whenever James attempted to rest. It had once, and still did, stop her heart a bit to see her little boy flying through the air, but she knew James was careful with him, and she concentrated on soaking in the sounds of Harry's laughter. No one could laugh like her little boy, whose very eyes lit up with mirth. _

_James chuckled, a soothing counter-point to her boy's soprano cackle. There was no better sound in the world. Here, in the haven of their yard, away from the prying eyes of the world, and the scheming machinations of Dark Lords, she could truly believe that the world was perfect. _

"_Lils?"_ _James voice interrupted her musings._

"_Yes?" _

"_I'm starved. Do we have food?" _

_Lily snorted. James was always hungry, and there was always food. "Yes, of course." _

"_Let's bring Harry in before it gets dark and we get the first of the trick-or-treaters, yeah?" _

"_Sounds good to me."_

* * *

Ginny clenched her pillow to her stomach and tried not to retch. It wasn't right that the day that had preceded Lily and James's awful death was so perfect. But then, if it had been horrible, would it be any more perfect? That sweet little boy who would grow to be her husband would still lose his parents, and he would gradually lose that openness to become a little more guarded under the neglectful care of the Dursleys. Not for the first time, Ginny wondered what Harry would be like if his parents had survived.

"Ginny, are you okay?" Harry's concerned voice was accompanied by his hand, who soothingly grasped her shoulder and kneaded a knot there.

"Bad dream," she managed, and rolled over so that she was pressed chest-to-chest with him.

"Bad dream? Or vision?" Harry asked, rubbing her back in small circles.

"I think I'm going to go with vision. Oh, Harry, if you could have seen yourself," she teased. "You had the cutest little red hat on."

Harry blushed. "I'm glad you think even that incarnation of me is cute."

"You're cute in all of your forms," Ginny said, and closed her eyes.

"Wait. You managed to distract me," Harry said, semi-accusingly, though amusement shined in his eyes. "It was a vision. That means something, doesn't it?"

"Honestly Harry, I don't know." Ginny sighed. "James is still so young I'm not getting any rest, visions or not."

"We might try some Dreamless Sleep potion," Harry suggested.

"Not while I'm nursing," Ginny said sternly. "I'm not taking any chances."

"You need to get some rest. You're fraying at the edges, my love, and everyone can see it. Listen. Why don't I take James and you can try to sleep in this morning?"

Ginny smiled. Harry tried so hard to help her, but every time she closed her eyes, she was assailed by images of her mother-in-law. Not unlike some of her girlfriends, Ginny thought with a smirk, who got tired of seeing their husbands' mothers.

"I think I'd rather be awake," Ginny said, and wrapped her hand in Harry's hair, drawing him close for a kiss.

"Hmm, good morning," Harry whispered. "How long did the midwife say?"

"Four more weeks, Harry." He groaned and she hooted with laughter. "It's going to be rough for me too, you know."

"I am not even going to dignify that with a response," Harry said, and flopped over on his back. Ginny crawled on his chest and was just starting to kiss his cheek when James howled.

"I'd better go feed the little one," Ginny muttered and flopped on her back. "I'm just so tired, Harry. I don't want to get up."

"You stay here. The little one can come to you for this feeding," Harry said, and got out of bed to walk the three feet over to wear the baby slept in his crib. "Good morning, Jamie," he whispered and picked the baby up in his arms. Although he'd originally been uncomfortable holding James, he'd quickly hit his stride and was now quite the daddy.

He handed James over to Ginny and crawled back in bed, lying with his head at the foot of the bed, propped up in one elbow, watching Ginny as she leaned back against the headboard while James nursed.

"What's so interesting?" Ginny asked absently, stroking the side of James's cheek.

"Do you suppose this is where the male fascination with breasts starts?" Harry asked. "I mean, how _fantastic_ would it be if you could get all your nourishment from your favorite pastime?"

Ginny laughed. "Playing Quidditch does provide us with all our nourishment, dear."

"_Not_ what I meant," Harry shot back.

"I know. But little seekers have big ears," Ginny said teasingly, laughing a little as Harry's face paled.

"I suppose I ought to get used to watching what I say, eh?"

"All the books Hermione gave me say that the tone is more important than the words at this point," Ginny said seriously. "But when he's older and picking up vocabulary, we're both going to have to watch ourselves. Neither one of us has a pure tongue."

Harry cocked his eyebrow at her.

"Oh, for the love of Merlin," Ginny said, torn between exasperation and amusement. "Is everything about sex with you?"

"For at least the next four weeks," Harry said, very seriously.

* * *

Ginny had, she supposed, adjusted to motherhood as well as the next witch, given her circumstances. If sometimes she was so overwhelmed she wanted to cry and she wasn't getting any sleep at night that was par for the course, right?

She'd heard other witches talk of post-partum depression, but she didn't feel like that was her problem. She loved her child and could never imagine hurting James, but she worried sometimes that she was so tired she wasn't able to care for him properly.

The first time Harry left for an overnight game, Ginny had convinced herself that she could handle it. Most other women could handle their baby by themselves overnight. She was just as good as the next witch.

By ten-thirty, she was in tears. James wouldn't stop crying and she couldn't figure out what was wrong. They sat in the rocker together, both of them unable to stop the flood. Finally, Ginny did what every responsible new mother did in a desperation situation – she called her mother.

Molly Weasley wrapped herself up in her coat, kissed Arthur good-bye and Floo'd over to her daughter's in record time. She remembered the first time she'd had to watch Bill all by herself. It was a panicky feeling and everything had gone well with her. She hadn't been suffering from a lack of sleep brought on by something other than her child.

It was clear to Molly when she saw the state of Ginny's house and Ginny's person that her grasp on sanity and health was tenuous at best. Harry had expressed to her his concern, of course, but she hadn't expected things to be this bad.

When she walked into the nursery, she immediately took charge, walking over to kiss her daughter on the cheek and sooth back the hair from her flushed flesh.

"Why don't you give me my grandson, Ginny? I'll walk 'round with him a bit and you can go take a bath. Wash the tears and frustration right off. Put in some of those bath salts I'm sure you have somewhere."

Ginny nodded, sobs hitching her stomach. "I'm so sorry, Mum. I shouldn't have called. I shouldn't have woken you up. You raised me to be stronger than this."

"No, sweetie. Part of being a grown woman is realizing when you need help, especially when it comes to your children. You're in no state to help James now. You go soak in the tub. If you can't sleep, then at least you'll be able to rest."

Molly knew that Ginny would eventually learn to take every moment of self-indulgence granted to her as a means to maintain herself, but like all new moms, she needed to be reminded of the world outside her and her baby.

Like most of her children and her grandchildren, James enjoyed motion when he was in a tiff. After a half-hour of walking the Potter house, she'd soothed him back to sleep and sat him in his crib.

She settled herself into the rocker beside the crib and pulled out the knitting she'd brought along – a blanket for Andrew's bed, in Gryffindor gold and red. With a wave of her wand, she cast a fire in the fireplace, and knitted while she waited for her daughter.

A few moments later, Ginny emerged in fresh pajamas, the whiteness of her face making her freckles stand out. Her daughter looked, Molly thought, like she'd been hit full-on by the Hogwarts Express.

Molly rose to her feet and unceremoniously laid the back of her hand against her daughter's forehead, judging her temperature in the way that she had done since Ginny's childhood. After a moment, she drew her hand away and tsked.

"Into bed with you, Ginevra. You're running a fever. Makes sense when you can't get a moment's rest. You're not giving your body a chance to fight anything."

"Is that why I'm so tired?" Ginny asked, a yawn overtaking her words.

"I think that probably has more to do with the fact that you haven't been able to sleep since before James was born," Molly muttered, but shook her head. "Though the fever might have contributed to it, I suppose. There's nothing for it now. Just close your eyes and go to sleep."

"Mom. Where are you going to sleep?"

"I thought I'd sleep in the chair," Molly said honestly, then gestured to her knitting. "I've been up a bit late trying to get this finished in time for Christmas anyway."

"If you don't mind, you can sleep in here with me. I – I really don't want to be alone." Ginny remembered feeling the same way after she'd been invaded (there really was no other word) by Tom Riddle. "Every time I close my eyes I see her face. I can't sleep."

Molly nodded, and sat on the edge of the bed. "Let's try this, dear. You close your eyes, and I'll sit here with you for a bit, okay?"

"Okay."

Ginny closed her eyes and drew in a deep breath. Her mother ran a soothing hand through her hair and hummed the soft melody line to a lullabye she'd sung many times over the years.

_Sleep my child, for morning comes_

_Sleep my baby, the one I love_

_Sleep my heart, my love, my all…_

_Sleep, sleep, sleep _

_In the arms of the angels_

_Rest ye well_

_Find in your dreams _

_Peace and health_

_Sleep my baby, the one I love._

_Sleep, sleep, sleep._

The combination of the melody, and the scent of her mother, and the sounds of her baby breathing steadily in the distance finally soothed Ginny to sleep – real sleep, for the first time in a long time.

* * *

Molly woke the next morning with James and before he could howl and wake his mother up, she took him, heading down to the kitchen. She waved her wand and set about making a bottle for him from the breast milk Ginny pumped and froze for the few occasions she would have to leave James with a babysitter.

"We're just going to let Mummy sleep for a while," Molly whispered to James. "Hopefully before she wakes up Daddy will be home, and we can give him what-for."

James blinked at her and let out a resounding burp.

"I quite agree," Molly said, grasping the bottle in one hand as she found a comfortable chair to feed him in.

The backdoor creaked open and in staggered the man she regarded as more than a son-in-law. Harry Potter had always been the child of her heart, but children, sometimes, needed to be told they were being dense.

Before she could open her mouth, Molly glanced over Harry. He didn't look to be doing much better than Ginny. Pale and worn, he smiled tiredly at her.

"Hello," he whispered. "I didn't know you were going to be here."

"Neither did I," Molly responded, rocking James in her arms slightly as she tilted the bottle at an angle. "Ginny called me."

Harry collapsed at the kitchen table. "I knew I shouldn't have gone. They would have let me take personal leave."

"From what I can see, Harry, you're not in much better shape than Ginny."

Harry snorted. "You try to sleep while she cries through the night." Harry shook his head. "That seemed insensitive of me."

"It was truthful," Molly countered, and wiped some stray milk from James's mouth. "You're both a mess. Come here."

Obediently, Harry rose to his feet and headed over to Molly's chair. She soothed the hair away from his forehead as he bent down, and like she had done to Ginny, carefully checked his temperature.

"Sick as dogs, the both of you," Molly said, shaking her head. "Go up to bed. Ginny's asleep. Don't wake her up."

"How'd you get her to – I mean…"

"I don't know. We'll work it out later. Go up to bed, young man. I can watch your son while you two get better. I'll come get you at lunch. Surely my daughter has the makings for chicken soup in this house."

Harry shrugged. He honestly had no idea. He was halfway up the stairs before he remembered his manners. "Thank you, Molly. For taking care of us."

"That's what mothers are supposed to do," Molly said dismissively and shooed him up the stairs. "Go on."

When he was safely out of earshot, she Floo'd Arthur, who got in touch with Bill, who talked to Percy, who stopped by the twins, who took Ron out to lunch. Within six hours, every Weasley knew that Ginny's visions hadn't stopped. And they all decided that it was time to do something about it.

* * *

"I called this meeting," Bill began pompously, before he was interrupted by the twins.

"The only thing you ever called in your life was a Quidditch match," George began.

"And that was only because you were the only one pissed enough not to be able to tell the Bludgers were cursed," Fred finished.

"All right then," Bill said with a sigh. "We all think something ought to be done about this."

"I saw Harry at the match," Ron said. "He looked like complete shite."

"…and played like it, too," Fred muttered.

"Hear, hear," George agreed.

"Oh, for heaven's sake. We need to help them for more reasons than Harry's Quidditch performance. Molly is more than happy to help take care of James, but she is by no means a young woman," Hermione interjected. "I think I'll take over for her this afternoon."

"I'll pop in to relieve you this evening, Hermione," Alicia, George's longtime girlfriend, said.

"I'll cover ze morning," Fleur offered.

"And then I'll come in again during the afternoon," Hermione said. "We can cycle in and out, for as long as they need us to."

"Now the question becomes… who is attacking Ginny? And what can we do to stop the attacks immediately?" Bill turned to look at Ron, resident Defense expert, but he was staring off into space, visibly distracted.

"Molly was able to get her to go to sleep by singing that old lullaby she used to hum to you kids," Arthur offered.

"There's a lot of love in that song," Charlie said, tugging on his earring thoughtfully. "Do you think whoever it is might be vulnerable to the ancient magic based on love that protected Harry?"

"It's entirely possible," Bill agreed. "Unless there's something about that lullaby we don't know. Dad?"

Arthur shrugged. "To the best of my knowledge, it was passed down in your mother's family. If there's anything extraordinary about it, Molly would be the one to ask."

"I'll ask her when I send her home," Hermione said.

"Divination is usually hindered by water," Ron said, tapping the table as he concentrated.

The room paused. "What did you say?" Percy asked.

"I said that divination is usually hindered by water." At the blank looks, Ron sighed. "Look, what I remember from class is this. There's a reason you scry in water, and that Hogwarts is bordered by a large lake. The waves disrupt any other psychic interference. Someone trying to cast a long-distance 'eye' would not be able to if they were separated from their object by something like a very impressive body of water."

"Like… an ocean?" Hermione guessed, her eyes sharpening on Ron, who shrugged.

"Who would think to look for Harry Potter in… oh, Japan for instance?" George asked.

"How do we get them there? They can hardly do international Apparition with a newborn," Percy asked, and the discussion flew from there.

Arthur set back in his chair. Some people thought he was insane, having so many children, and some days he vaguely suspected they were right. Other times… he knew he had created a perfect, protective circle. They would figure out a way to save Harry and Ginny. If the Weasleys couldn't, no one could.

* * *

Author's Note: Molly's lullaby is mine. I will provide full lyrics… somewhere. I will let you know where, if anyone is interested.

It's amazing, how quickly I can write when I just put on my big girl pants and do it. Thanks go to Kat Morning and Daily Prophet Reporting for all their help in polishing this fic to as close to perfection as I can get.


	11. Chapter 11: A Vision in Desperation

**Chapter Eleven: A Vision in Desperation**

Harry blinked his eyes open. Although he knew that he'd been sleeping for a while, he really had no idea how much time had passed since Molly had forced him to go to bed. Most of the bone-deep had felt his thin frame. He drew in a deep breath and tried to sit up.

"Don't even think about it, Harry Potter," the stern voice of Hermione Granger said from the rocking chair, where she was holding his son. "You need to stay in bed. Molly left you some soup. Do you want a cup?"

Harry coughed experimentally. His head still hurt and his throat was viciously sore, but he didn't seem to have any of the nausea that had plagued him during the game. "Yeah, I could eat."

"Good. You're not going to die, then," Hermione said teasingly.

"How's James been?" Harry asked, rubbing his arms fiercely to generate some heat. Startled, he realized he didn't have a shirt on.

"He's such a good baby he hardly gave me a moment's trouble. And for Merlin's sake, Harry, don't be embarrassed. I've seen you without your shirt on before."

"Well, when you put it like that it does seem a little ridiculous," Harry mumbled, and then turned to look at his wife, who was gently snoring next to him. "Is she really asleep?"

"She's really asleep," Hermione confirmed. "She woke up a few hours ago, but Molly sent her right back to bed after she'd had some soup."

"I can't believe she went a whole night without a vision," Harry said, scratching at his scar. "That lullaby of Molly's must have done the trick."

"There have been records in the past, of melodies and lyrics that have special power," Hermione admitted. "That's ancient magic, though."

Harry drew his knees up to his chest and let his head fall on his kneecaps. "Ancient magic's good for me. Hermione, my head really hurts."

"I'm sorry, Harry. Let me go get you a potion and that cup of soup, all right?"

"Sounds great," Harry admitted, and slid back underneath the covers, wrapping an arm around Ginny.

As Hermione left the room, Harry heard Ginny's breathing change a bit. "Harry?"

"Right here."

Ginny rolled over and studied him through sleepy eyes. "I keep trying to wake up, but I keep falling asleep. Is James okay?"

"He's fine. Hermione's got him. You're exhausted, love. You probably need the sleep. I think we're both pretty sick."

Ginny nodded and closed her eyes, already halfway asleep. "Yeah, I think so too. I'm glad Mum showed up. I was so _tired,_ Harry."

"Me too, love. Me too."

They curled into each other and went back to sleep. When Hermione came back in with the soup, they were already both snoring.

Hermione rocked in the chair, Harry's soup steaming next to her, and James in his crib. She closed her eyes and tried to think. She couldn't remember Harry ever being _sick_. Headaches and colds, yes, but never ill like this. Ginny, too, had always been extremely healthy. These months with the pregnancy and the visions and the lack of rest had quickly dismantled their health, but they both had held on, too stubborn to ask for help. James had clearly not suffered. He was a rosy-cheeked and bouncing baby, who reminded her of her own cheerful Andrew.

James yawned and Hermione cooed at him, stroking the side of his cheek. "Jamie-boy, you have the prettiest eyes, yes you do…"

A soft knock at the door made Hermione raise her head. Fleur wasn't due to replace her for another few hours, and she figured any unwelcome visitors wouldn't have knocked. She was happy to see Ron's head emerge from the doorway.

"Hello," he said, in the low voice he used when he wanted to be as quiet as possible. It was the voice that curled Hermione's toes. "Harry and Ginny still asleep?"

"Yes," Hermione said, and laid James back in his crib. "I'm going to change his diaper any minute now and give him another bottle. He's been a lovely baby. How's Andrew?"

"He's fine. George and Fred took him to the shop when I got called into work today."

"You got called in? What happened?"

Ron sighed. "There's been a few random attacks on some of the better-known surviving war heroes. Mostly Muggle in style, which has thrown the investigation for a loop."

"Have we figured out what stopped Ginny's visions?"

Ron dropped to the floor at Hermione's feet and absent-mindedly took her foot in his hand and rubbed the arch gently. "Mum doesn't think the lullaby has any overt magical qualities. I wrote Remus and asked him what he thought – he knows more about the obscure and ancient magics than anyone else alive. I haven't heard back from him."

"We need to figure out a way to replicate it, whatever it was. You haven't seen them, Ron. They look like death. They need to rest."

"Are you sure you just don't want a few more days to play with the baby?" Ron cocked an eyebrow at her, his eyes twinkling in amusement.

Hermione laughed. "I wouldn't object to it."

"You know, we're going to have one of our own again. In six months. And then you'll be begging for someone else to come play with the baby."

"Ronald Weasley, I will _not_. You know that I love our children!"

Ron waved his hands a bit desperately. "You're misunderstanding what I'm saying, Hermione Jane."

Hermione raised an eyebrow. "I am?"

Ron knew he had to completely abandon the subject or suffer the wrath of his very talented and very effective wife. "Let's not talk about that now. Here's what I'm thinking. I'm thinking we need to get Harry and Ginny out of the country. In another continent, if at all possible."

"I'm thinking you're deliberately changing the subject." Hermione tapped her finger on the arm of the rocking chair.

Ron shrugged a shoulder. "I might be. But it _is_ what I'm thinking. So there."

Hermione laughed. "All right. Let's talk about it. We can't just tell Harry and Ginny to pick up and move somewhere else."

"Yes, we can. We've been best friends with Harry for ages. Ginny's my little sister. If they don't take advice from us, who are they going to take advice from?"

"Alternately, we could treat them like adults and let them know that this is an option."

Ron sighed and dropped to the floor. "I just am really worried. We can't figure out a way to protect Ginny, and this is getting to Harry, I know it is."

Hermione nodded briskly. "Agreed. If sending them across the ocean stops the visions until we can work out what's behind this, I'm all for it. That being said, where do we send them? America?"

"No, I don't think so. I think we need to send them somewhere that no one would think to look for Harry Potter."

"We need to sneak them out of the country, too. Obviously, someone's been tracking all of their moves," Hermione noted, tapping her foot as she worked out the plan in her mind. "Bill and Charlie have done a lot of international traveling – they might have a better idea of where to send them."

Ron swiftly picked up James and rose to his feet. "We can get the whole Weasley family in on this _after_ we get Harry and Ginny to agree to go. I have a feeling it's going to take all of us."

* * *

_Someone was singing, a soft voice in the night as fog swept over England. It was low and male, singing a song that Ginny vaguely remembered from childhood that spoke of the sea lulling a child to sleep. She found herself in her own body for once, in a house she only knew in dreams. _

_Disembodied and light-headed, she walked the well-worn path to the nursery, where she heard the voice coming from. She stopped in the doorway and watched James rock baby Harry in the rocking chair. _

_A hand, suddenly placed on her shoulder, nearly caused her to jump out of her skin. _

"_We're doing the best we can to help you, child," Lily's voice said in her ear. "There's not much more we can do to help here. Take your brother's advice."_

"_My brother's?_ _Which of my brothers?" Ginny asked incredulously, mind still reeling from the unexpected direct contact with Lily and James Potter._

"_Ronald, I believe," James said dryly. "He's on his way." _

"_You're being so strong," Lily said, and her arm wrapped around Ginny's waist in a way that felt sisterly. Ginny remembered suddenly that she was older than Lily had been when she died. "I would not wish this on you, daughter-in-law." _

"_Thank you," James said suddenly. "For remembering me through my grandson. Tell Harry…" His throat worked and Ginny saw him struggle to swallow. "Tell Harry that we love him, very much. We miss him everyday." _

_Lily nodded. "It's almost over, Ginny. One way or another, it's almost over. In any case, it's time to wake up now."_

* * *

Ginny blinked and felt the reassuring weight of Harry's arm around her waist center her. For once, she felt able to rise out of the fog of unconsciousness.

"Harry, where's James?"

Harry stretched out and arched his back, moving his arm away from Ginny. "Hermione has him. I think I remember that from the last time I woke up."

"Do you think one of us could get up and find out?" Ginny asked, genuinely concerned.

"I can try. Give me a minute to gather my energy."

"Stay right where you are, Harry James Potter," Hermione said firmly from the doorway. "I just put James down for a nap. Besides, Ron and I have something we want to talk to you two about."

Suddenly the dream came rushing back to Ginny. She felt momentarily dizzy and clung to Harry's arm for a minute.

"Ginny, are you okay?"

"I had a dream… I…" She shook her head, as though to clear it of cobwebs. "I don't really want to talk about it now."

Hermione looked at her intensely for a few moments and the nodded. "All right then. We had a Weasley family meeting yesterday. And Ron came up with an idea. The more we talked about it today, the more we thought you two should execute it."

Harry reached for the shirt on the side of the bed and pulled it over his head. "I can't talk seriously with you two without a shirt on," he said by way of explanation.

Ginny snorted. "You just don't trust me to keep my hands to myself."

Harry chuckled; the thought of anything sexual at the moment was laughable at best. "Right, Gin."

"We think we need to get you two out of the country," Ron said bluntly.

"Ron, have you ever heard of tact?" Hermione asked crossly.

Harry raised his eyebrows. "Out of the country? Why?"

"We figured that all of the visions are divination-based," Ron said. "Large bodies of water disrupt the flow of that particular type of magic."

"So we have to leave _England?_" Ginny asked, not quite believing what she heard.

"Look, if you leave England, we can focus all our attention on tracking whoever this is instead of protecting you two."

Ginny sighed. "You two have talked this over and you really think this is the best idea?"

"We do," Hermione asserted.

Ginny looked at Harry and shrugged her shoulders. "What do you think?"

"We can't leave the country without thinking pretty seriously about it. Even if we leave, someone's going to notice that I'm not around."

"Agreed," Ginny said with a nod. "The reporters are constantly trying to get one-on-one interviews with Harry. We have to ward our property against them pretty strongly."

"If it gets out that we left the country, then whoever's doing this could follow us. Then what would the point be?" Harry asked.

"The point is, it usually takes time to get permission to leave the country," Ron began, ticking the items off on his fingers. "It will give you and Ginny time enough to recover mentally to where Ginny could start to fight back. And besides, it'll be a good experience for James."

Harry raised an eyebrow. "International traveling at a month old will be a good experience?"

"Okay, that might have been a bit of a stretch," Ron admitted, "but the rest are all valid reasons to go."

"Let us do this for you," Hermione said, reaching for Ginny's hand. "You two have enough to worry about with the new baby and everything, you shouldn't have to worry about having another psycho after you."

Harry sighed and looked at Ginny. "What do you think?"

_Take your brother's advice._

"What harm could it do? We wouldn't have to leave right away, would we?"

"Honestly, the sooner the better," Hermione said. "It'll take us a few days to get all the paperwork together and figure out where to send you. Neither one of you is healthy enough to travel comfortably right now, either. Hole up here for a few more days and let the rest of the Weasleys take care of organizing things for you."

"Thank you so much, Hermione, Ron. I'm glad that you're able

"Well, you were so far gone we had debates about sending you to St. Mungo's," Hermione said honestly. "It was the least we could do for you, Ginny -- though I really think that he misses his mum."

"That's good, because I miss him terribly, too." Ginny sniffed, feeling tears tug at her eyes.

"Just a few more days' rest and recovery and you'll be back on your feet," Hermione soothed. "Let me go get you two something to drink and something to eat. Then we'll see if everyone's up for a visit from James, yeah?"

"Sounds great," Ginny said weakly, coughing into Harry's shoulder, being awake quickly draining her energy.

"You need to stay awake long enough to eat," Harry said sternly. "You haven't been awake as often as I have. You can't fight this off if you haven't got any energy."

"Yes, mum," Ginny teased and pushed herself up more. "So. Where are you thinking of taking us?"

* * *

"Japan. That's the best place for them," Bill said, looking over his desk at his most wayward brother, Charlie, who was still single and still looked like a genuine bad-ass, dressed in leather with a claw for an earring.

"Agreed. I have some contacts there. Their ministry is tolerant to foreign visitors, and they understand better than most how to keep a secret. There's no place better than Japan to hide Harry Potter in broad daylight."

"We might want to try Firenze's friend Rhysmana again – see if she has any idea how to track the attacks from a non-astrological point."

"Percy seems to think the best way to do it would be the magical signatures trace Harry worked on perfecting. Harry might be able to tweak it to trace divination traces, as well," Charlie suggested.

"Okay. Here's what we do," Bill said, and rose to his feet. "I'll get in touch with my contacts in Japan, let them know Harry's on the way and also let them know we'd rather no one know about it. You want to Floo that old man you used to hang out with?"

"Takashiro?"

"That's the one. He's the Asian dragon expert, isn't he?"

"He's one of them, yes. He does more work with general Defense now, though. Which is a shame. He's a great dragon clerk. He's just getting old."

"Yes, yes. If he's up to it, I think it would be good to send Harry to live with him there."

Charlie raised an eyebrow. "That's an interesting mix of personalities."

"It's only for a month while we figure out how to handle tracking this psycho."

"We need to figure out his motivation. That will help us figure out who it is."

"Bill!" A frantic Percy showed up in his office. "You need to come quick!"

Bill was on his feet and pulling on his dragon leather jacket in a matter of seconds. "What's going on, Perce?"

"They found Cornelius Fudge," Percy said. "He's dead and no one can get to him."

"What do you mean, no one can get to him?"

"There's a cursed ward."

Swearing, Bill barreled down the hallway to the Floo he could use to get the Ministry. "This has just been a lovely day."

As soon as Bill disappeared, Charlie took a handful of Floo powder as well. "I have a feeling it's only going to get worse."

* * *

A/N: Sorry guys! I know the chapters have been shorter of late. I'm doing the best I can to break the story up so that it flows naturally, though. Thanks to Kat Morning and Daily Prophet Reporting for all their hard work! 


	12. Chapter 12: A Vision in Webs

**Chapter Twelve: A Vision in Webs**

International traveling with a one-month old was nothing short of the biggest headache Ginny had ever had experienced. The Weasleys had decided that whoever was after Harry and Ginny would probably be on the lookout for travelers with one tiny baby, and so Ron and Hermione had agreed, over the protests of Harry and Ginny, to send Andrew with them, at least for the duration of the trip.

"All right, dear? Do you have everything packed?" Molly asked, bouncing baby James in her arms. She and Arthur had insisted that Harry, Ginny and James move back into the Burrow while the final arrangements were made.

Ginny smiled, holding out her arms. "Yes, I think so. With any kind of luck we'll only be gone a few days, Mum."

"The boys will get this figured out," Arthur said solidly, wrapping an arm around Molly's shoulder and squeezing it imperceptibly. "We'll get you back home to Britain in no time."

Harry coughed, then offered his hand to Arthur. "We'll see you in a few days, Arthur. Thank you for all your help, Molly."

Molly nodded and blushed, opening her arms to envelope Harry in a bone-crushing hug. "You take care of my grandson while you're in that godforsaken place."

"I'll do my best," Harry promised faithfully, though his lips twitched.

"Be careful, Ginny," Arthur said, kissing Ginny on the cheek. "You know how to get a hold of us if something goes wrong, yes?"

"Of course, Dad," Ginny said, securing James more tightly in her arms. As she leaned over to return her father's kiss, there was a puff of green light from the fireplace.

"Here we are!" Hermione announced in a sing-song voice, Andrew's hand firmly in her own. "Step down, Andrew, okay?"

"Yes, Mum," Andrew murmured.

Ron followed, cursing under his breath as he knocked his head on the mantle. "'Ello Harry, Ginny."

"Morning, Ron," Ginny greeted him cheerfully. "How are you doing today, Andrew?"

"I'm okay," Andrew said, a bit shyly. "Mum made me breakfast."

As Ginny continued to put the young boy at ease, Harry and Ron had a brief conference, discussing the final details of the plan.

Fred and George had discreetly obtained the hair of a Muggle couple, Edwina and Frank Barrier, and Bill and Charlie had, through their more dubious contacts in Diagon Alley, acquired very good forgeries of the appropriate papers to cross the borders.

"Charlie's already gone ahead to Japan," Ron said quickly, "and Bill will be on the British side, just in case something happens. Charlie will take Andrew back with him after he switches up Polyjuice identities. Takashiro is expecting you. He speaks fluent English. You can hide in plain sight in Tokyo."

"Ron, you'll send word when you figure out who's behind this, right?" Harry's eyes pierced his friend's.

Ron never wavered. "Of course. We'll let you know just as soon as we know."

The two men, more brothers than friends, embraced quickly and stepped apart. "We'll see you soon," Harry said.

"Take care of Ginny."

As Ron reached around to give Ginny a hug, she punched him instead. "I can take care of myself, thank you very much."

"You know what I meant," Ron said crossly, rubbing his shoulder. "You hit hard."

"She always has," Harry said smugly. "Good-bye Hermione, we'll see you in a few days."

Hermione wiped a tear from her eye. "Take care of yourselves," she whispered, hugging Harry fiercely.

"We'll take care of Andrew while he's with us," Ginny promised Hermione.

"I never had any doubts," Hermione said, squeezing Ginny's shoulders. "We'd better get you two moving or you'll miss your Apparition time."

"Here's your Polyjuice," Ron said, pushing a vial into Harry's hand. "You'd better drink that now, before you Apparate out."

"Right," Harry said, and quickly took a swig. He could just make out Ginny drinking hers before his vision went blurry and body parts began to rearrange themselves.

Edwina, Frank and their two children made it to the International Apparition Point with no problems at all. The witches and wizards waiting in line with them might have thought Edwina clung to the baby a little tightly or that Frank was a little overly concerned with keeping the young toddler boy close, but that was entirely natural for a young couple traveling internationally the first time.

They made it through customs with minimal fuss. Frank wrapped his arm around Edwin and grasped the younger boy's hand. With a sharp _CRACK_, Harry and Ginny Potter left Britain for the first time.

* * *

Bill, George and Fred approached the Potter house very carefully. The fact of the matter was, the house was warded by probably the most powerful wizard alive in the world. Harry Potter. Obviously, they didn't mean any harm, but if the house decided it had been abandoned and needed to protect its contents, it might be as dangerous to them as any other invader.

"All right, no matter what happens, we stick together, right?" Bill said in a low voice as they walked up to the door.

"Right. It's Harry's house. There can't be anything that would attack us, right?" Fred gripped his wand tightly.

"Well, the only real danger is in the fact that it's been empty so long," Bill reminded them. "Harry might have set the wards to be friendly to Weasleys all the time. I hope that's what he's done."

George raised his eyebrow. "We _are_ talking about Harry Potter, right? Brother-in-law to all of us? Surely he would have our best interests at heart. Why didn't anyone ask him about this?"

"Because we're all great big prats, of course," Fred muttered.

"Harry said that there was a good possibility we weren't in any danger. But he's been able to develop semi-animate wards. He's got full control of them, but only him," Bill explained patiently. "He can't predict their behavior one hundred percent when he's not around."

"Great. The fact that he's a powerful wizard is damned inconvenient from time to time," George said.

Bill reached the door first and whispered the spell that Harry had let them know said? would unlock the door.

Stepping inside the front door, they kept their wands in hand, not quite relaxing at their easy entrance. As one, they moved about the kitchen and arranged themselves in a circle.

The incantation was simple enough, Bill thought with a sigh, but interpreting the results of the tracing spell might be a bit difficult, especially the way that they'd modified it. They would have to expose the lines of all the magic done in the room, isolate the dark magic, trap and contain the lines, and transport them to Ron's office, where he'd set up a scrying bowl where hopefully they'd be able to track the magic. Since none of the other Weasleys had been available, Bill, George and Fred would have to rely on their abilities to get the job done.

"_Scribus,_" they incanted together, and an intricate wave of luminescent lines weaved itself on the kitchen floor, the traces of all magic cast in the room. Obviously, there were a lot of lines for all the cleaning and cooking charms used. After waiting a few moments to let the lines settle, Bill nodded his head. "_Noxus._"

All the lines in the kitchen disappeared, except for a pulsing dark one. Now came the difficult part of the spell. The men all took a step in towards each other and laid the tips of their wands on the writhing string.

Bill took the lead, yanking it up and twisting it around his wand. The whole house seemed to lean inwards, but he did not cease his work. Again and again he wrapped it around his wand. One of the windows cracked. Fred and George braced themselves and stood with their feet shoulder-width apart, casting Bracing Charms wherever they were needed.

After several minutes of this, Bill nodded his head, and the tension in the house seemed to snap back.

"All right," Bill said tiredly. "That's one room down. Several more to go."

In some rooms, they determined it wasn't necessary to cast the spell to track the Dark Magic, as they couldn't find any traces of it. The sitting room was like that, as well as the dining room. When they climbed the stairs to the bedroom, though, Bill took a deep breath.

"I have a feeling this is going to be the nasty one," he said conversationally to George.

"Yeah," George said, rolling his wand around in his fingers. "I just hope Ron can analyze these and tell us at least where the source of the magic is."

"Harry seemed to think it would be relatively easily," Fred reminded his twin. "Anything Harry Potter can do, we can do better."

Bill snorted. "All right then."

"Fred, I do believe Bill doubts us!" George exclaimed mockingly.

"We'll just have to prove him wrong then, brother mine."

Feeling a bit apprehensive, Bill pushed open the door to Harry and Ginny's bedroom. The smell of illness had been thoroughly dispelled by the Cleaning Charms Molly had used unsparingly, but the bed was still unmade and James's cradle was still mussed. Bill shook his head. This made the fact that his baby sister was half-way across the world a bit more… real.

Again, they arranged themselves in a circle and cast the first spell. Instantly, the room crackled with energy, making Fred and George's hair stand on end. Bill winced as his wand arm heated up.

"We aren't going to be able to wait long on this one," he shouted through gritted teeth at his brothers.

They nodded their heads, either unwilling or unable to respond. Without much further discussion, they cast the second spell and couldn't hold back their gasps of surprise.

In the kitchen, they had found just one curse line. In here, there was a veritable web of them, pulsing purples and blacks and deep, nauseating greens, woven in and around and through each other. The mass was lighter around the floor but culminated in a heap that writhed on top of the bed, particularly on the side where Bill assumed Ginny slept. He fought his urge to become physically ill.

"Blimey," Fred breathed. "How are we going to store _that?_"

Bill rolled up his sleeves and looked over at Fred and George. He hadn't seen anything so bizarre in all of his years of Curse-Breaking. The challenge of it was uniquely stimulating.

"I think we're going to have to unravel it into chunks," Bill suggested. "If we can separate the strands where they're gathered together up there, we'd have a better chance, don't you suppose?"

"Yes," Fred said emphatically.

"We're going to have to do this fast. We can't unravel these strands and brace the house at the same time," George pointed out, though his expression was an excited one. "We're going to have to break it apart before the house caves in."

"Great! A challenge," Bill muttered, and grinned at his brothers when they nodded and smiled back at him.

* * *

Ron was ready for his brothers when they burst into his office, aglow with the excitement of their success. He had the scrying bowl set up on his desk and rose to his feet to greet them.

"Did it work?" he asked anxiously.

"Of course it bloody worked," George replied enthusiastically.

"It's a bloody Harry Potter spell," Fred agreed. "It worked bloody brilliantly."

"We nearly brought the house down," Bill said dryly. "It's still standing. But Harry's going to have some home-improvement projects waiting when they get back from Japan."

"Yeah, yeah," Ron muttered. "Who cares about the bloody house at a time like this?"

"Ginny," Fred and George said at the same time.

"All right. Good point. I'm glad you're here," Ron said, rolling his eyes. "Firenze has agreed to come out and help us interpret the dreams. I was able to contact him this morning."

"Brilliant," Fred said simply and collapsed in one of the chairs across from the desk. "When is he supposed to get here?"

"Anytime now. He feels like he owes Harry a favor."

There was a discreet knock on the door. Firenze stuck his head in. "Mr. Weasley? You were requesting my presence?"

Ron broke out his trademark grin and gestured to the bowl in front of him. "You're very, very welcome."

* * *

Remus tapped his quill on the parchment in front of him a bit distractedly. Feeling a bit better than normal, he sat at his desk with a book of records from the Second Voldemort War in front of him, a cup of tea to his side. He was looking for any clues hidden in the rows and rows of names in the books, which listed not only deaths, but injuries. The maniac after Harry and Ginny hadn't made any mistakes as of yet, but psychopaths always showed their hand. It was just a matter of following all the clues.

There was a discreet knock on the door. "Remus?" Dora stuck her head in and smiled. "Making any progress?"

"Not much," he admitted and sighed. "This guy hasn't made any mistakes that I can see."

"Really?" Tonks arranged herself in his lap and looked over his work. "You've been making some notes, I see."

"Yes. Well, the type of magic they're using is so specific, you see…. I was looking for connections to someone who would have that type of skill." Remus sighed. "It just seems so fruitless. I hope that the Weasleys are making progress on that tracking spell because it seems to me that there has to be some sort of personal reason for this. It's too personalized for it to be otherwise."

Dora nodded her head and was about to open her mouth to speak again when Ron's voice came from the fireplace.

"Remus? Are you around the records from the war at all?"

"Yes, as a matter of fact," Remus said, turning his chair to face in that direction. "Is there something I can look up for you?"

"Yeah. Look up when Colin Creevey died."

* * *

Author's Note: Thanks for reading and reviewing! Special thanks to DPR for the beta on this one! Next chapter coming soon. Almost done!

* * *


	13. Chapter 13: A Vision in Strength

**Chapter 13: A Vision in Strength**

Remus looked up at the Weasleys, not completely understanding their request. With a muffled spell and a few moments pouring over the documents, he had the Weasleys' answer.

"Colin and his brother Dennis died during the final attack at Hogwarts," he said, his finger tracing the line as he read. "They were cornered by a couple of Death Eaters. I remember both of those boys. They never showed a particular aptitude for Defense. It also mentions that they had been pulled from their school by their father, Corwick Creevey."

"Now that's interesting," Ron said, rapping a fist on his desk as an idea came to him. "I remember that. Harry was right furious that they showed up like that when they had been safe, but he couldn't send them back where they belonged. It was too late at that point."

"Weren't they those young boys that were supposed to stay in Gryffindor Tower that managed to sneak down anyway?" Fred asked. "George and I made some comment about them being a little like a young pair of Weasley twins."

"Yeah. We thought it took serious bullocks to do something like that," George said. "We were keeping an eye on them. As long as we could, anyway. As soon as we had a spare moment, one of us was going to haul them back up to the Tower…"

"They bought Harry a few minutes of critical time," Ron recalled. "Colin was taking pictures of the Death Eaters. They were going to help the Ministry prosecute, they said."

"Helpful thought, if insanely foolish," Remus muttered, remembering that day. "I don't see how they could have gotten clear enough pictures to help prosecute anyone."

"It's the thought," Bill said, shrugging shoulders. "No one ever accused Gryffindors of possessing a great amount of common sense.

"Here's something interesting," Remus said after there was a short pause.

"What's that?" Bill asked. "Maybe we should just come through the fire."

"That might be best," Remus said. "I'm getting a bit tired of having to shout my thoughts through the fireplace. And if this is helpful evidence, then you're going to want to see it for yourselves."

A few moments later, and all the Weasley men were crowded around Remus'study. He felt a bit like he was back in his teaching days at Hogwarts. All the Weasley children had an aptitude for magic and were always a bright spot in his classes, even Ron, whom he suspected of underestimating his own intelligence.

"This is an article," he began, "from _The Daily Prophet_, two weeks after Voldemort was defeated. You know, when we were all too busy going to funerals to read the newspaper?"

"I remember," Ron said softly. "Sort of. Who wanted to read the newspapers? They were all full of rubbish about Harry. He was a saint one day, the devil the next."

"No, there's never much moderation in reporting, I'm afraid," Remus said. "This particular article is interesting because one Maximillian Springsdown interviews Corwick Creevey, who has just been personally selected by Ex-Minister Fudge to be a part of the Muggle Outreach program our current Kingsley put him in charge of."

"I seem to remember that," Fred said. "None of us thought he would be capable of handling anything else."

"Well, putting him in charge of Muggle relations wasn't Dad's favorite idea of Kingsley's. Do you remember?" Ron asked. "He went on for days about how poor Muggle relations caused the last two wars we'd been in and how this just showed the Ministry's blatant disregard for something they should be taking seriously?"

Bill raised an eyebrow. "I have no idea. I was absorbed… with Fleur. Charlie?"

"Yeah… I mean, I remember thinking the same thing as Dad, actually. What's the article say, Remus?"

"Well, he appears sane. Says he's always been fascinated by magic, and he was saddened that his children's exposure to something he always viewed as positive in his childhood eventually caused their deaths."

"Really?" Charlie crossed his arms. "It was their exposure to magic that caused their deaths, and not their exposure to a madman?"

"It's all in your perception, I suppose," Bill said thoughtfully.

"Tomato," Fred said.

"Potato," George responded. "You can say they're basically the same sounding word, but it's an entirely different connotation."

"You're too right, brother mine. Obviously, this bloke blames _our_ world for the deaths of his boys."

"If you blame the wizarding world," Ron began, "I suppose it's just one step further to blaming Harry? I mean, he is our figurehead right now."

"Through no bloody choice of his own," Bill said through gritted teeth. "It's damned inconvenient that people still look to him and Ginny for leadership when they should turn to their government."

"You've got to be a bit more forgiving than that, Bill," Charlie said patiently. "We've lived through two governments failing to protect us. And each time, it was Harry who saved the day."

"That's the bloody point. Let him take a bloody rest and shag my sister," Bill said, and flushed red when he realized what he'd said.

"I hardy think this is the point," Remus said reasonably. "It might be worth our time to investigate this Corwick bloke. He knew Fudge personally, and has a personal grudge, if not against Harry, then against the wizarding world."

"But he's not capable of doing the dark magic it would take to do the types of things that are being done to Harry and Ginny," Ron pointed out.

"There are still Death Eaters around," Remus said. "Chronic followers with a penchant for evil and the need for a madman. If Corwick discovered any of these men…"

"Yes, it's possible," Bill said, rising to his feet. "We'll investigate it. I think we've got a brother who's perfect for the job. Don't you fellows?"

Ron grinned. "Percy."

"Exactly."

* * *

He hadn't always known that the world of magic had existed. As a child, he'd been fascinated by fairy tales and King Arthur. He'd spent hours daydreaming about magical spells and dragons, pretending to be a knight of the round table or Merlin, until adolescence, when he'd given that up for a much cooler approach to his obsession in the game Dungeons and Dragons.

Much to the astonishment of his friends, family and the general populace, Corwick Creevey had found himself married to the very beautiful Anne, who loved him in spite of his tendency to obsess. After five blissful years of marriage, Anne gave him a son, Colin, and then another to follow, Dennis. They stopped having children after Colin and Dennis's… uniqueness began to show itself.

Although generally pleasant children, it was obvious to everyone around them that they dealt with stress in a way that normal children did not. If Colin wanted the blue glass, and Dennis got it, Colin's glass would slowly turn blue. Or if Dennis wanted a teddy bear, but Colin was playing with it, the bear often ended up hanging in the air between them. Corwick and Anne had found their antics amusing, but mostly kept their sons' abnormalities to themselves. Exposing such a thing would bring the boys unwanted and undue attention.

The summer after Colin turned eleven, he received his letter to go to Hogwarts. The entire family rejoiced, after they confirmed . Finally, they had explanation for the strangeness they took a private delight in. The trip to Diagon Alley to buy school supplies for the first time was endlessly entertaining. He would never forget the sights and sounds of that first wonderful exposure to magic.

Looking back on it, he thought that would perhaps be the last time he looked on magic with true fondness. He watched helplessly as his son became proficient at things he would never understand. At least Colin was a nearly-obsessive photographer. Eventually, through both his sons' eyes, he witnessed the wizarding world change. Every year, the things the boys wrote home about darkened. He lay awake at night, worrying for his sons' safety with Voldemort around, and in Colin's sixth year and Dennis'fifth, he'd pulled both boys out of school. Even that wasn't enough to keep them from the lure of the world they had come to love so well.

On a warm evening in April, Corwick had climbed the stairs to check on his boys, and they were not there. Panicked, he'd examined every inch of their room and could find no trace of them, except for a note they'd left on their bed.

_**Dear Dad,**_

_**Gone to help Harry fight You-Know-Who.**_ _**Death Eaters after us because we're Muggleborns. Shouldn't be able to trace you. Will be back once we've won the war.**_

_**Colin & Dennis**_

But they hadn't come home. They'd sent both of his boys home to him in body bags. Colin first, and then Dennis, who'd fought a hard battle in St. Mungo's before he finally succumbed to his wounds, passing in what he was told was an honorable, "Gryffindor" fashion. He'd never felt so lost. What did it mean to die in a Gryffindor fashion? Who were these people that had stolen his sons from him?

As the days went on, it became clearer that a true theft had occurred. Up until the day Colin had received his letter, Corwick had been firmly in control. Without Hogwarts, without sodding _Harry Potter_, who dared fill his boys' heads with adventures and glory, without Harry Potter, Colin would still be alive, sitting in his room at the top of the stairs, developing pictures to the best of his ability.

Even then, his newfound knowledge might have come to naught if not for the fortunate circumstances following Colin's funeral. Former Minister Fudge had approached him, explaining the Muggle Outreach program, and Corwick had seen his chance. It was not unlike the strategy that he used so many years ago in his Dungeon and Dragons games. Through subtle manipulations he was able to learn so much about this You-Know-Who and this Harry Potter.

Eventually, he began to see the logic in what this Voldemort person was trying to achieve. By keeping Muggleborns away from magic, he was protecting them from dangers they would never truly be able to handle. His Colin and Dennis had taken Defense classes for years, and they could not defend themselves against the threat presented them. Corwick could think of no other school he could have sent them to where they might have had to fight for their lives.

Of course, it was their loyalty to Harry Potter that was the true cause of the boys' death. They were safely tucked away in their home when they had decided that _Harry_ needed their help. It had not taken him long to reach his decision.

Uncovering and stealing Lily Potter's memories had been easier than he thought. There were enough wizards left that dabbled in what they called the Dark Arts that he had been able to find someone willing to do what he had been told was considered one of the greatest atrocities of the wizarding world – aside from casting Unforgivables and the kiss of the Dementors. She had born the child that had taken the life of his. He could afford to desecrate her memory.

The death of his boys would not truly be avenged until Harry Potter had suffered the loss of what he had – the sanity of his wife, and the life of his children. If the corruption of his mother's soul was a side-effect, it was an added bonus. Once he had stripped Harry of all he loved, then he would be merciful and end Harry's life. Only then.

* * *

Percy was seated at his desk, happily scratching away at a piece of parchment that held his To-Do List. At the very least, he was distracted from what his brothers were doing at the moment. His sister had been one of the first to accept him back into the Weasley fold, and Harry had quickly followed, and therefore, they were both extremely close to him. He hated to see the start of their healthy family marred by such dark magic.

There was a series of impatient raps at his door. Percy responded without looking up. "Come in. I've got a few minutes."

"I should hope so," Bill said, grinning at him as Ron and the twins filed in the office as well. "We need to get in touch with a Muggle, Perce."

"Is that so?" Percy chewed on the end of his quill for a minute then whirled his chair around. With a wave of his hand, it began to move forward, approaching the book case. Grabbing the law book he needed, he scooted the chair back to his desk. "Which Muggle, and why?"

"Corwick Creevey," Fred said instantly.

George immediately followed that up with, "Because he's been trying to drive our sister around the twist, that's why, you great prat."

"It was a logical question," Percy protested mildly. "I know that name, though. Why do I know that name?"

"He's a Muggle that was a part of the recently nixed Muggle Outreach Program headed up by Fudge," Charlie said.

"Ah yes," Percy said softly. "That would explain why I know the name. There for a number of years I watched Fudge very carefully, yes."

"Were you watching him closely when he died?" Bill asked, raising an eyebrow.

Percy laughed harshly. "No, I'm afraid I wasn't nearly so… uncouth. No. Penelope suggested it was unhealthy for me to be so concerned with him, in light of my future… goals. I stopped immediately, of course."

"Percy, we need to get in touch with Corwick Creevey," Ron said patiently.

Percy nodded gratefully at Ron, clearly uncomfortable with where the conversation had been heading. "Your best bet would be to send him an owl, since he was on the Outreach program, he should be used to getting them and it won't startle him too much. You can arrange a meeting with him that way."

"Let's all remember our war training," Ron said. "Percy, you set up the meeting. I'm the only one still in combat shape, so I'll go with him. In the meantime, no one does anything stupid. Don't try and get Corwick alone by himself. We still need to be able to prove he did something to Harry and Ginny."

"That should be easy enough, with the magical tracing spell," Percy said pompously.

"Yeah. Minus that whole 'Muggle' thing – which means he _can't_ do magic, which makes our tracing spell pretty much rubbish. Other than that, great idea Perce," Fred drawled sarcastically.

George raised an eyebrow at his twin. "We'll have to come up with something different. Catch him in the act or something."

"We can plant something _on_ him," Fred said suddenly. "Like they do in those Muggle spy films… an insect, or whatever they call it."

George nodded excitedly, the only one of the men in the room who had any idea what was going on. "Like… a portable Extendable Ear that will let us hear everything that he says."

"The idea being that we listen to this guy live his life for a few days and then we'll have some idea if he's doing this on purpose or not?" Bill asked.

Fred grinned triumphantly. "Exactly. He's got to be getting frustrated that he can't get to Ginny…"

"With that great sodding Pacific Ocean and all…" George continued.

"He'll say…"

"Or do," George interjected.

"Something_incredibly_stupid."

"Sooner or later," George finished with a grin. "Criminals usually do, don't they Ron?"

"Yeah," Ron said. "It's probably not legal. But… Perce can make it legal, can't you?"

"It's just a matter of getting a permit," Percy said with a shrug. "And since I _do_ work in the Permits and Licenses office…"

"Done," Bill said, beaming.

"We've got him," Ron said, unable to stop the grin overcoming his face. "We've got him now!"

* * *

A/N: I apologize for the complete lack of Harry and Ginny in this chapter. Not my fault. They didn't want to play. 


	14. Chapter 14: A Vision in Sakura

**Chapter Fourteen: A Vision in Sakura **

_Tink._ Harry opened his eyes, confused for a moment. Then he smiled. _Tink. Plip-plop. Tink._ Takashiro was making morning tea in the kitchen. Harry stretched, yawned and reached for his glasses, before rolling over and making his way down the dojo's hallway to join the old man.

He was bent over the oven – he seemed permanently hunched to Harry, more waddling than walking as he painfully manipulated the tea leaves and water as well as the rice for breakfast. While he work, he sang, more under his breath than anything else. "Sakura sakura yayoi no sora ha…"

"James is going to know more Japanese than he knows English by the end of this," Harry said, pausing in the doorway.

To his credit, the old man didn't jump, he just smiled. "It is an old and noble language. Your son could do worse, Potter-san."

.The tiles on the kitchen floor were cold, but Harry hardly noticed them as he gratefully took the cup Takashiro offered. "Thank you, Takashiro-san."

The old master's smile let him know he'd at last managed to find the right suffix. Japanese was a complicated language, Harry thought ruefully, though he'd had more than one argument with the old man about which language was harder to learn, English or Japanese.

"I was singing of the cherry blossoms," Takashiro said, seating himself on the floor. "I am hoping to see them bloom one more time before I die."

Harry nodded, more familiar with that feeling than he would have liked. "I remember when I thought I had seen my last Christmas."

"It is the thought of mortality that makes men foolishly sentimental," Takashiro said, sighing. "In my younger days I promised myself I would not linger over the golden times. I suppose one cannot help it when you get to be my age."

"Young men aren't immune to it either," Harry muttered, staring out the window at the house's lawn. Takashiro lived simply, and in his yard he kept a few animals. The grass moved softly in the early morning breeze as late autumn swept over Japan.

"We linger too long on evening-thoughts for so early in the morning," Takashiro said brightly. "Come, share my tea with me, Potter-san, and we'll talk of this dragon you met when you were fourteen."

Harry laughed. It was nice to remember something of Hogwarts, of his time there that wasn't painful. He was so engrossed in the conversation that he hardly noticed Ginny entering the room, carrying a fussy James in her arms.

"Good morning," Ginny said, eyes bleary and tired. "Your son is awake. And I need coffee." She had a tendency to speak in short, declarative sentences first thing in the morning.

"Here, let me take him while you do that," Harry said, holding out his arms. The moment James settled in his arms, he felt a sense of peace come over him. James made everything he and Ginny had gone through the last few months worth it.

Ginny poured a mug of coffee as she exchanged morning pleasantries with Takashiro, her voice low and soothing to both Harry and James. Harry ran his finger down his son's cheek wonderingly. He never quite got used to this strange blending of himself and Ginny. Often, he found himself wondering what his son would be like when he got older – which personality traits he would take from Ginny or Harry, what gestures he would pick up.

Takashiro assisted Ginny while they talked, helping her assemble a breakfast, moving in that slow manner so characteristic of him. There was a certain economy of movement to him, though. Harry noticed, with his Auror eyes, that Takashiro never did anything that wasn't absolutely necessary and did things in ways that were certain to cause him the least amount of pain.

"Do you want to change him later this morning?" Ginny asked, sitting down next to Harry a bit awkwardly.

Harry grinned. "All right, Ginny. I'd love to do that."

"I know," Ginny said smugly and sighed into her tea. "I am going to miss the tea here, Takashiro-san. Everyone says there's nothing like English tea, but there's something about the way you make it."

"English tea," Takashiro said, shaking his head slowly, settling into his spot on the floor next to Ginny. "Flavorless and bland like so many things English. Japanese tea will wake you in the morning and put you to sleep at night. Like it should." He nodded his head once, firmly, and Harry and Ginny exchanged amused glances.

"Your brothers should be making progress," Harry said, his eyes still on James, even though the motions of caring for a baby were becoming second nature to him. "Weasleys never move slowly or subtly towards a goal." Ginny coughed. "Except for you, dear."

"Thank you," Ginny said primly.

"That was always the problem with Weasley-san," Takashiro said, deftly maneuvering some of his morning rice between two chopsticks. "He never took the time to fully investigate the situation. Just rushed in and handled things as he came. He took many more burns than he should have."

"Charlie always was a bit of an idiot," Ginny said, though Harry could hear the affection in her voice. There was a moment of silence before she continued. "Ron promised me an update later, when it's not so early in the morning here and it's in the early evening there."

"He sounded excited about something the last time we spoke," Harry said. "Part of me is glad we're here, safe, but another part of me wants to be back in England going after this guy personally."

Takashiro hmphed. "It is a lesson we all must learn, Potter-san, that sometimes we must put our trust and our lives in the hands of others. It is an exercise in faith. When given freely, faith is rarely betrayed, especially at the hands of friends and family. It is best that you are here, where the ocean can protect your wife and your child. Patience, Potter-san, is always rewarded."

Harry nodded. He oftentimes caught hints of the type of wisdom Dumbledore had possessed in the ancient Japanese man. Ginny shot Harry a look full of meaning, and Harry quelled his rising impatience and itching feet. Just as Ginny had waited for him years ago, Harry could wait until he would be useful again.

James finished the bottle and gave a happy sigh. Harry lifted him to his shoulder and began the process of burping him, rising to his feet and patting the baby's back rhythmically. Though he was still dressed in his typical pajamas, a simple white t-shirt that he often abandoned in the night and plaid flannel pants, he stepped outside the dojo anyway, letting the sun warm his feet, which grew cold from sitting on the floor. He paced along the porch of the house, absorbed in his thoughts and the feeling of his son settled securely on his shoulder.

Eventually, James gave a satisfying belch, and Harry grinned. "We'll work on it, James. That was about a 4.5, I'd say."

"Is the Russian judge out today?" Ginny asked, sliding the door to the house shut as she stepped outside.

"I've heard Ron belch. James can do better, given his genetics," Harry said with a wink. "Are you wanting your son back?"

"No, I just thought I'd come out here and enjoy my two men," Ginny responded, wrapping an arm around his waist.

Harry felt a shudder dance up and down his back. "There were days when I was sure I would never survive to see you again," he said softly, "let alone have children together. Everything from this point on is just icing on the cake."

Ginny smiled. "That's a very positive way to look at midnight feedings."

"Just so long as they're midnight feedings in-between uninterrupted hours of sleep," Harry said. "You're still dream free, right?"

Her smile grew sad for a moment, then she nodded. "I sort of miss your mum. I mean, mine's great. I can Floo her anytime and ask her questions and she's got answers, but…"

He swallowed and nodded, surprised at the dull pain in his chest. "I miss her too."

"Oh, Harry," Ginny said, her voice breaking, "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to be insensitive…"

He shook his head strongly. "You're not. It's nice to know… It's nice to know there's somebody else who can understand."

"They were special people," she said softly. "To sacrifice so much…"

"I understand it now, I think," Harry said. "Now that I have you and James. I understand why my dad stood up to Voldemort without a wand, why my mum never thought twice about it. I understand because I'd do the same."

Ginny absorbed that for a moment, then laid a gentle kiss on Harry's shoulder, since that was as high as she could reach without going on tip-toe. "Me too."

* * *

Ron slammed open the door to his office, cursing under his breath. It was 4:30 p.m., and he wasn't any further along with getting permission to cast Surveillance Charms on Corwick Creevy than he had been at 9:00 a.m. when he'd rolled in to work. He had a few of his Aurors watching him, but until the meeting with Percy, during which they hoped to catch him saying something incriminating, the Ministry officials had been steadfast on their claim that he hadn't enough evidence to waste resources "babysitting" a Muggle.

"This is the _problem_ with the bloody world," he ranted, pulling open a file case with a bit more ferocity than it probably deserved. "We keep underestimating the bloody Muggles and it comes back to bite us on the…"

"Ronald Weasley," the voice of his wife cut through his tirade like a knife through butter. Ron turned and faced Hermione, who appeared to be mostly amused, though she was holding Andrew's hand.

"Hi daddy!" His son greeted him, pulling free of Hermione's hand and running to wrap his arms around Ron's leg.

"What are you two doing here?" He asked, picking Andrew up and settling him on his hip.

"Your secretary sent us on through," Hermione said easily, settling herself on the desk and rubbing her stomach contentedly. "He said that you could use some positive energy."

"You could say that," Ron muttered under his breath.

"Did you catch any bad guys?" Andrew wanted to know. His dad was his hero. Everyone knew that, besides Uncle Harry, his dad was the best wizard in the whole world, though Andrew had his suspicions that even Uncle Harry wasn't quite as good his Dad. Those children that didn't know that were very swiftly corrected.

"I'm trying to. There's one out there that I'm having a bit of a time with," Ron said, jiggling Andrew a bit and making him giggle.

"Did they block the papers, then?" Hermione asked, raising an eyebrow.

"They say I don't have enough evidence." Ron coughed at the expression on Hermione's face. "I know they're right. If this was anybody but Harry and Ginny I wouldn't let one of my Aurors get away with it either. It's just so frustrating to _know_ but to not have proof!"

Andrew frowned. He wasn't sure what exactly was going on, but he was his mother's child and what he didn't know, he made his mission to find out. One of the best ways to do that was to listen. So he stuck his thumb in his mouth (his mom wasn't paying attention anyway and it helped him think, so there) and paid very close attention.

"There's an ocean between Creevy and Harry and Ginny," Hermione said soothingly. "That buys you a little time and a little distance. Tomorrow's the meeting with Percy and Creevy. He's bound to slip up sometime."

"Percy threw his whole weight behind getting those papers through," Ron said, gritting his teeth a bit. "Creevy has somebody here at the Ministry trying to make things easier for him."

"Fudge is dead, so there goes the obvious choice," Hermione said, tapping her fingers on the desk.

"I thought our days of trying to root out corruption in the Ministry were long over," Ron said with a sigh.

"Where there is government, there will be corruption," Hermione said matter-of-factly. "Have you thought about calling in a favor with Kingsley?"

Ron bit his lip. "I thought about it. I want to do this the right way, but I don't want to sacrifice Harry or Ginny or James for my sense of fair play. Kingsley could sign the papers himself and he _does_ owe me."

"He owes Harry, too," Hermione said softly. "There can't be any harm in it. All _our_ instincts are pointing towards Creevy. Even Remus says so. If he's using a wizard to try and drain away Ginny's sanity, then they might find a way to track them, especially now that the research on Magical Tracing has come so far."

"I guess we don't have much of a choice then, do we?" Ron asked. "How do you feel about going to see the Minister, Andrew?"

With a soft _pop_, Andrew drew his thumb from his mouth and nodded enthusiastically.

"All right then. Hermione, you want to come too? It might as well be a Weasley family field trip."

Hermione nodded. "Kingsley will understand that it's a family decision this way. Do you want to carry Andrew through the Floo?"

"Makes more sense. You've already got a passenger." They exchanged a quick kiss and very soon after, the offices of Ronald Weasley were empty.

The same could not be said for Kingsley Shacklebolt's office. Half of Britain seemed to be seated in the lounge area, and he had three secretaries seated at very large desks, sending off messages and answering them at blazing speeds. One of them, a doe-eyed woman with oval glasses, looked up when Ron and Hermione entered the room and jumped to her feet.

They had never gotten used to getting the same amount of attention and respect that Harry and gotten all of his life, but Ron had to admit that in certain circumstances it sure made life a lot easier. She rushed forward and soon Ron and Hermione found their hands enveloped and shook enthusiastically in turn.

"Mr. and Mrs. Weasley! Oh, and you brought little Mr. Weasley, too! I saw your wedding pictures in Witch Weekly. I thought your gown was just divine. I'm getting married in June and I've gone to every shop in London trying to find something like it…"

"It's a Muggle design," Hermione said faintly.

"Oh, _that's_ the problem! I seemed to remember reading that, but I just couldn't imagine it actually being done by a Muggle. It just seemed so well made! Not that Muggles don't know how to make clothing, but it often lacks a certain… iridescence, bless their hearts. Are you here to see the Minister?"

Ron was beginning to develop the slightly nauseous feeling he had got whenever Lavender and Pavarti started to chatter a million miles a minute, like he was on a broom spinning wildly out of control with no end in sight.

"Yes, thank you," Hermione said firmly.

"He's actually in today, lucky for you! So often anymore he's out and about on field work, trying to rebuild this and that. Spends most of his time going over that Azkaban research with the Experimental Magic Division…. Oops! That's supposed to be secret. Oh well, you won't tell that I slipped, will you? I've got terrible problems saying what I oughtn't. Minister Shacklebolt says that's okay, I don't know enough to get anyone in trouble anyway. Oh dear, you both look a bit shell-shocked. I should stop nattering on and on, shouldn't I?"

"It might be a good idea," Ron said under his breath. Hermione elbowed him in the gut, but not as hard as she would have if she didn't feel the same way.

"You're just a bit nervous. It's fine," Hermione said reassuringly. "Do you think you could let Kingsley know that we're here to see him?"

"I have standing orders to bring you right on through, if you ever are to show up. Well, you and Mr. Potter. Imagine seeing him in real life! Oh, I bet you two do, though. He's probably just as gorgeous in real life, isn't he? Don't tell me. I don't want my dreams ruined. I would just be _destroyed_ if he had an acne problem or something. I've always said Ginny Potter was a lucky woman, even when she was just Ginny Weasley. Every picture in every magazine they had of the two of them together, his eyes were always locked on her. Makes a woman a bit jealous, doesn't it? Though I don't suppose _you_ would know, Mrs. Weasley, since Mr. Weasley's the same way."

Hermione coughed. "Yes, well. Do you think you could show us to Kingsley's office, now?"

Amazingly enough, the young woman never ran out of things to say the entire length of the corridor to Kingsley's office, and Ron was feeling thoroughly befuddled as she knocked briskly on the door.

At the sound of Kingsley's, "enter", the secretary stuck her head through the door. "Mr. and Mrs. Ronald Weasley to see you, sir."

There was a low chuckle on the other side of the door. "You'd better show them through while they still have ears, Lucinda."

She opened the door to the Minister's office and Ron, Hermione and Andrew stepped through. Ron and Hermione had been here before, but Andrew hadn't. He got the sense that the man behind the big cherry desk was very important.

"Ron! Hermione! So glad to see you! Why don't you come right on in? And you brought your son to see me. Andrew, is it?"

Sliding down his father's leg, he walked across the room and stood in front of the desk and held his hand out. "Andrew Weasley, sir. I'm three years old and I'm pleased to meet you." Since that seemed to garner his mother's approval, Andrew didn't mind so much that the big man laughed before he shook Andrew's offered hand.

"Sorry to disturb you like this, Minister, but there's some issues that need to be resolved, as quickly as possible," Ron said, seating himself on a chair that Kingsley had gestured to.

"Ah, yes. It would have to be something important for you to override the traditional process," Kingsley said, settling a pair of reading glasses on his face. "You have the appropriate documents for me?"

"I do. It's regarding casting Surveillance Charms on a Muggle who we believe is using his connections to the Wizarding world to attack Harry and Ginny Potter."

Kingsley waved a hand. "No need for the explanation, Weasley. Leave me a copy. I'll sign the paperwork and read this when I have a moment. You should know that you and your family have my complete trust. I can't thank you enough for all you've done for Britain, Ron. Signing a piece of paper is the least I can do."

With a flourish, he crossed the last "t", and Ron and Hermione and Andrew took their leave shortly thereafter.

* * *

Author's Note: Sakura are the cherry blossoms that bloom once a year, in spring. Takashiro is singing a traditional Japanese folk song at the beginning of this chapter entitled "Sakura, Sakura". Its melody reminded me strikingly of "Twinkle, Twinkle Little Star"… which is a favorite of my young cousin. I decided it was perfect.

Japanese people, particularly those more traditional, do not have tables with chairs, they sit on the floor… they sit seiza. For those unaccustomed to this position, it is extremely uncomfortable.

Without the help of Kat Morning, who is something of an expert on Japanese culture, much of the beginning of this wouldn't be as accurate. Thanks to her and Daily Prophet Reporting for all their hard work


	15. Chapter 15: A Vision in Reconnaissance

**15: A Vision in Reconnaissance**

Percy was nervous. He was used to the emotion. It had been his nearly constant companion through the first part of his career after Fudge's downfall. Now he had an entirely different reason to be fidgety: he was going to attempt to plant a bug on a Muggle.

Not that this would be considered difficult. Normally. Now, there was a lot riding on this – too much, really. He owed his life to Harry Potter, and Ginny was, of course, his sister. Her safety and the safety of her family was a priority. He took a reassuring sip of tea.

As was his habit, he had arrived at the predetermined restaurant fifteen minutes ahead of time to secure a table. The waiter knew him – Percy had selected one of his favorite pubs – and had brought him his tea before he'd had to ask. He drank it straight as he stared out the window to the crowded London street.

Not all Wizarding businesses in London were located in Diagon Alley. This one was tucked very cheerfully between a hardware and a furniture store. It tried to brighten up the gloom of the foggy London skies with bright yellow paint and red vinyl booths. It was tacky, but the service was dignified. Percy thought it was a good step on the path to the "loosening up" his brothers insisted he do after the war ended.

The doorbell chimed, and Percy knew without looking that Creevey had arrived. He fought back images of freshly scrubbed first-year faces in Gryffindor robes so new they'd practically crackled with movement. Dennis and Colin had both been so young, so naïve, so enthusiastic about everything. It was hard to believe that both young men had come from something that would turn out so twisted.

Creevey arrived at the table and Percy rose to his feet, holding out his hand. "Hello, Mr. Creevey. So glad you could come. Won't you have a seat?"

Corwick nodded, and folded himself into the booth. His hair had probably been blond at some point, Percy thought, and he might have been in shape at one time too. His long frame and ease of movement suggested an athlete or dancer's familiarity with his own body. He smiled at Percy, and the expression shot a chill right through him. To an outsider, it would appear to be a perfectly normal smile, but Percy caught the underlying meanness.

"To what do I owe this pleasure, Mr. Weasley? You said you're with the Ministry."

"Indeed. In the Licenses office," Percy said, taking a swallow of his tea and waiting patiently while a waitress took Creevey's order and asked him if he'd like a refill, which he politely declined. "There have been some concerns raised about the Muggle Outreach program Fudge was putting into place."

"I suppose my name's still on a list then, isn't it?" Creevey said, looking for all the world like exactly what he was pretending to be – a Muggle man who was more than a little baffled at the workings of the Wizarding world.

"Yes. The Ministry keeps excellent records," Percy commented, struggling for a way to start the conversation he needed to have. "After the program closed down, what has been your contact with the magical world?"

Creevey coughed and thought about that. "My boys died in the most recent war. Did you know them? Colin and Dennis Creevey."

"I was their prefect my sixth and seventh years. They both left quite an impression," Percy said, allowing himself to relax. He could do this. "They were bright boys. True Gryffindors."

"That's what they tell me." Corwick studied the napkin in front of him and began to fold the corners in. "They told me that my boys died an honorable death."

"They died for a good cause," Percy said, a lump rising in his throat. "I had several friends die in that war – in that specific battle, too. They helped change our world, Mr. Creevey. The wizard, Voldemort, would have denied them access to the magic that was their right, just based on their parentage. Muggles got past that sort of thing a long time ago. It was time to catch up."

Creevey nodded his head at the waitress, who discreetly laid a mug on the table and filled it with coffee. "I taught my boys to know right from wrong, and to face evil when they saw it. It serves me right that they ran off and got themselves killed. I taught them right from wrong but I never thought they'd be fighting in a war, Mr. Weasley."

Percy grew irritated, but calmed himself with a deep breath. "They were true heroes, Mr. Creevey. And they died too young. So did many others' sons and daughters. It doesn't diminish your sacrifice, Mr. Creevey, but the truth is the war was hard on everyone."

"Sometimes the boys' friends will show up, have tea with myself and Mrs. Creevey," Corwick said, the mask of grief now firmly in place over the anger that had been there before. "And Harry Potter sends us Christmas Cards."

"He knew your boys well. He was fond of them," Percy said confidently. "It wears on him terribly, the ones that he lost in the war. He had the weight of the whole world on his shoulders. Still does, as a matter of fact."

"It's an awful load for one man to carry," Creevey said, matter-of-factly.

"Indeed," Percy agreed. "Let us return to my previous question. Your contact with the magical world after the program was ended?"

"Ah, it's like I said. Sometimes a few of Colin and Dennis's schoolmates will stop by and say hello. My wife is very ill – she's never herself any more. I get Christmas cards from a few witches and wizards. Other than that, it's a world I'd prefer to leave behind. Magic has not been kind to me and mine, Mr. Weasley."

"It is just another tool, Mr. Creevey," Percy said, rising to his feet. "It can be used for good or for ill."

Mr. Creevey nodded. "I suppose that's one way of looking at it."

Percy removed his wand from his pocket and smiled thinly at Corwick. "I hope you don't mind. I would like to do a Tracing spell on you. Just to verify your statement. I'm afraid it's required by the Ministry."

There was a flash – just a flash, of irritation in Corwick's eyes before he nodded his head gamely. "I suppose there's nothing to be done for it, then. Go ahead."

Percy murmured the incantation for the spell and examined the results quickly while he cast the Spying charms that would link Corwick to the receptors located in Ron's office. "Thank you, Mr. Creevey. I doubt you'll be hearing from the Ministry for a long time."

"Thank you, Mr. Weasley," Corwick said, slipping his coat on while he rose to his full height. "It has been a pleasure to meet you."

"Oh, Mr. Creevey," Percy called, as Corwick moved towards the door. "I just wanted you to know. I think of your sons often. They may have died young, but they left quite an impression on everyone they met. They truly live in our memories."

Creevey nodded his head and exited the café quickly.

* * *

Ron rubbed his hands together gleefully. Percy had managed to plant the charms and his investigation could finally move forward. The sooner he had solid evidence on Creevey, the sooner he could bring his sister, brother-in-law, and new nephew home to England. Where sensible people lived.

"Mr. Weasley?" Archibald stuck his head in Ron's office. "Do you have a moment?"

"Yeah, sure, Archie. Come on in." Ron gestured to a seat across from him at the desk. "You want to have a seat?"

"No thanks, sir. Um, they're done processing the man who attacked the Potter home two weeks ago, sir. It took them a while to break through the Memory charms. All the evidence suggests that he was under the Imperius Curse, sir."

Ron sighed and leaned back in his chair. "So they got nothing from interrogation?"

"No, sir. And they exhausted all the methods they can use legally, sir. Even got a warrant for Veritaserum, you'll remember. You signed off on that."

"So I did. Relax, Archie. I won't eat you for breakfast." Ron reached for the squashy ball on his desk Hermione had given him to help him deal with stress and squeezed it with one of his massive hands. "That's irritating."

"Yes, sir." Archie clutched his clipboard to his chest. "Will that hold back your investigation, sir?"

"No," Ron said distractedly and flung the stress ball at the wall. It stuck to the wall for a second with a loud clap, and then fell to the floor. "Getting through Harry's wards is no small feat. That means he had some skill, Imperius curse or no."

"They're still holding him, sir. He has to stand trial for breaking and entering."

"That poor idiot was just a pawn, if not a victim. It just means that this whole thing is even more complicated than we thought," Ron said with a sigh. "Oh well. Nothing about this has been easy."

"No, sir." Archie made a mark on his clipboard with his quill. "Sir, are you going to have some of the staff monitor Mr. Creevey tonight?"

"What? Oh, yes." Ron cleared his throat. "Here's what I need."

The next few minutes flew by as Ron explained what the staff was to listen for and how the listening charms worked. Archie's quill flew as Ron finished his orders.

"Sir." Archie said, when Ron had finished giving orders. "I was supposed to remind you to contact Mr. and Mrs. Potter before you went home."

Ron flushed red and checked his watch. "It's late enough in the day that they should be okay with me Floo'ing now. Thanks, Archie."

"That's my job, sir."

"Well, your job's done for the day. Why don't you take a bit of a holiday and clock out early? Take your girl out for a bite. You have a girl, don't you?"

Archie grinned, his cheeks dimpling. "I'm working on one, sir."

"Well, then, I wish you the best of luck. Get out of here."

"Yes, sir."

As soon as Archie left and the door shut behind him, Ron whirled his chair around and addressed the fire. Tossing in a bit of Floo powder, he waited for a minute while the magic connected him to a house just outside of Tokyo, Japan.

"Hello," a wizened old man greeted Ron, his eyes sparkling. "Are you looking for Harry and Ginny?"

Ron nodded. "I am."

"They are outside with their son. I will go get them. If you will be pleased to wait a moment?"

Ron smiled at the formality. "Yeah, sure, I can wait."

The fire burned green for a few minutes while Takashiro went to collect Harry and Ginny and Ron used that time to gather his thoughts. He would never be Hermione but he had learned over the years how to keep himself mostly organized.

With a burst of green, Harry's head emerged in the fire. "Wotcher, Ron!"

"Hey, Potter," Ron said cheerfully. "I've heard from Percy. He had his meeting with Creevey."

"Did it go well?" Harry asked, his eyebrows knitted together. "You made sure he had security on him, didn't you?"

"Yes, Auror Potter, I mostly certainly did. Even my brothers who are gits deserve someone watching their backs while they confront dangerous, potentially insane criminals."

"Good. I'm glad," Harry said, ignoring Ron's slight dig. "What did he come away with?"

"He did the tracing spell, as well as the listening charms," Ron said, relaxing back in the chair. "We'll be watching him for the next few days, but we can't find any dark magic around him. If he's insane, it's not magically-related."

"Muggles can be just as nuts as wizards, Ron," Harry said ruefully. "Look at Uncle Vernon. There was nothing magically wrong with him."

Ron nodded his head. "It would just be easier if we could trace it back to a spell, you know. Oh, they finished processing your burglar. He, at least, was under the Imperius Curse."

Harry made a face and sighed. "Well, at least we can tell now, who's actually been under it and who's just claiming it."

"The Malfoys still got away Scot-free," Ron muttered. "You lot comfortable in Japan?"

Harry grinned. "As comfortable as you can be, eating and sleeping on the floor. We get to spend a lot of time with James. It's good. Not as distracting as being in England would be."

"Heh, it's just like you to see the bright side of this whole mess," Ron said, chuckling a bit. "I have a feeling we're going to get him, Harry. And put him away for good."

"Good," Harry said. "Japan is nice. But we miss you, and Hermione, and everyone else. It'll be good to be back."

"We miss you lot, too. It's hard not being able to see your new nephew. Give Ginny my love, yeah?" Ron was a bit ashamed when his throat closed up.

Harry's eyes were a bit misty, too. "Of course. You got to get back to work?"

"Yeah. I have to catch up on some stuff here. I'll get in touch tomorrow."

"See you then." Harry ended the Floo call and Ron rose to his feet, prepared to get his best friend and sister home.

* * *

Ginny woke in the middle of the night to the cry of an infant. Despite how little sleep she'd been getting, she smiled. Her son was probably hungry. He was like his uncles that way – a big appetite and a big heart. But when she rose from the bed, she realized she wasn't in Takashiro's house and her heart began to beat out of control.

_Oh no,_ she thought a bit desperately. _Not again._

She swung her legs over the side of the deep bed she, or rather Lily, shared with James and walked the few steps to the bassinet where Harry laid.

"Hello, little one," she murmured, her voice a bit lower than she was used to. "You're making a lot of racket for someone with such little lungs."

Harry's face scrunched up as he let out another wail. "All right. Let's see what we can do."

With the ease of practice, she picked Harry up and walked over to the rocker, easing herself down and settling Harry to breastfeed him.

The moon streamed in from the window through the sheer white curtains she'd hung just the day before. She was content in her home – in the way she'd set up the little house on the edge of town. When she could stop thinking about Voldemort, about the way the world was, she was really and truly happy.

James rolled over and groaned. "Is he awake again?"

"He's hungry," Lily said with a smile. "Like someone else I know tends to be."

James smiled and rubbed a hand over his eyes. "I'm sorry I didn't wake up."

"It's okay. We had a hard day today." Lily ran a gentle thumb down Harry's cheek.

"Yeah. We both did." James flopped over on his back and reached for his glasses. As soon as they were on, his brown eyes came into focus and her heart flopped, silly with love. "I told you in the beginning that I'd help with Harry as much as I could."

"I decided to give you a break on this one," Lily said. "Don't worry about it."

"I wasn't sleeping well anyway," James said, running frustrated hands through his hair. "We should be able to figure out what's holding up the development of the potion."

"Maybe we brewed it too long, James. We've been pushing ourselves so hard. We could run the Arthimancy equations again."

"No good. Remus went over those equations with us twenty times," James said. "Maybe we need to go back to the beginning."

Harry broke his head away from Lily's breast and let out an ear-piercing cry.

"Well, we know what Harry thinks of that," Lily said on a laugh. "I'm sure that when we go over the formula in the light of day, we'll think of something. We're just under a lot of pressure right now, James."

"Our friends are dying." James said it so matter-of-factly, so dryly, that broke Ginny/Lily's heart. "We have to do what we can to stop it."

"James, we're doing all we can." As Lily repositioned Harry's mouth, she couldn't stop the tear from falling from her eye. "We're doing all we can."

* * *

Ginny woke on a sob and curled into Harry. His arm came around her immediately as he slowly came back to consciousness.

"Ginny?" He reached for his glasses in the same way James had, and it broke Ginny's heart again. "What's wrong?"

"The dreams," Ginny managed. "They're back. They found us."

Harry cursed and stared up at the ceiling. "That's it, Ginny. We're going to have to fight back. We can't be passive about this any more."

Ginny wiped her eyes. "We haven't exactly been lying down, Harry."

"No. I'm going to firecall Ron. I need to know what he knows. We can't just suffer through anymore, Ginny. If he's here, in Japan, we need to find him."

* * *

Author's Note: Aaaaaaaand… that's it! Thanks for reading, everyone! Special thanks, as always, go to Kat Morning & Daily Prophet Reporting for all their hard work in beta reading for me.


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